Saavik's Saga: Awakening (Book I)
by T'Avri
Summary: Awakening centers on Saavik's early life after being rescued by Commander Spock. She now lives in ShiKahr, Vulcan in the care of Sarek and Amanda. Spock revisits issues over a complicated distance relationship with his family. Story takes place in the span of one day, and focuses on emotion/memory/multiple POV/Vulcan culture/social dynamics. WIP:Visit my profile for update details.
1. Synopsis & Ch 1: Dreams of Stars

*****UPDATE: Some Vulcan translations and other dialogue has been recently changed. I plan on expanding Chapters 9 & 15 very soon.  
><strong>**This is a work in progress: More details about chapter updates _as they happen_ can be viewed on my profile page! *****

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><p><strong>Synopsis:<strong>

Chronologically, _Awakening _begins in the year 2276 after the V'Ger Incident and nearly a decade before the events of the return of Khan Noonien Singh in late 2285. The entirety of it takes place within the span of one day, and is told through the various viewpoints of each character. _Awakening_ is written as a foundation for future stories, establishing character history and personal perspective.

This story relates Saavik's early experiences and impressions after being rescued by Spock on Hellguard in 2274 at age ten. After nearly a year on Dantria IV, Saavik is taken to Vulcan to live with his parents as her legal guardians. Spock is forced by duty to leave her behind as he continues to serve aboard the _Enterprise_. Saavik's story is told in tandem with Spock 's through his long distance relationship with her from space_. _

Through personal memories of struggle from each of their pasts, a new shared history will unfold. Both of them will be trying to make sense of their lives; Saavik to her adjustment into civilized Vulcan society and Spock as he adjusts to dealing with his parents and protégé, finding himself at odds with strict cultural traditions that still bear grim recollections. Interactions on board the _Enterprise _are also explored, and it becomes apparent that even old friends can get on each other's nerves.

Although the main storyline is serious, there are many lighter humorous moments as well.

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><p><strong>Notes for Reference:<strong>

_** While not entirely necessary, it may be helpful if you are familiar with The Pandora Principle by Carolyn Clowes and Unspoken Truths by Margaret Wander Bonnano. You may wish to look to these novels first as reference to Spock discovering Saavik with aid of the Symmetry.**_

The primary focuses of _Awakening_ are on introspection and emotion, specifically the psychology of emotion versus control, personal motivation and perspective of memory. There will be many references to Vulcan culture and mysticism woven throughout, used to build as well as deconstruct the complexities of the Vulcan mindset in regards to family, friendship and life experience. Individual character recollections and points of view is the primary perspective. References will span from_ The Original Series_, _The Animated Series_ and _The Motion Picture_ with hints to future events!

Also, just so I don't ruin anyones expectations: this story is _NON SLASH_. It is written with the intent to abide by established major canon events and relationships within the prime TOS universe. There will be many nods to popular published fiction, so have fun recognizing these references as well!

**Many thanks are in order to the following resources:**  
>- <em>The Vulcan Language Dictionary<em> (VLD); One of the best resources for Vulcan language ever compiled for quick reference .  
>- <em>Vulcan Language Institute (VLI)<em>: Learn the fascinating language of T'Khasi and its people!  
>- <em>Kirshara<em>; A Vulcan language and cultural database specializing in the understanding of Surak, Vulcan philosophy and culture.  
>- <em>Korsaya<em>; A dedicated project for the further study of Vulcan language, in particular calligraphic script.  
>- <em>The Imperial Romulan Language Institute<em> (IRLI); Learning the language of the Rihanh has never been so much fun!  
>- <em>Memory Alpha<em> & _Memory Beta:_ Anything you ever wanted to know about Trek and then some...  
>- And finally, to the <em>many numerous authors<em> of _Star Trek_ novels who have contributed to the vast wealth of lore and fandom we all love.

To all those listed, _th'i-oxalra!_ I appreciate and salute your efforts!

_Paramount_, _CBS_ and its affiliates own _Star Trek_ and all related characters; I'm just pleased to borrow them for psychoanalysis for a while without making a cent.

_Review and comments are greatly appreciated_. Please do not post whole or parts of this story anywhere else on the web without my consent. Thanks for reading!

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><p><span><strong><em>Awakening<em>**

_Nam-tor wak vah yut s'vesht na'fa'wak hehe pla'rak. I'wak mesukh-yut t'on._

_Time is a path from the past to the future and back again. The present is the crossroads of both._

- An excerpt from Surak's Analects

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Dreams of Stars<br>**_

Darkness enveloped her as the stars watched, uncaring sentinels as they were. Although in this moment it was eerily quiet, the parched air still and windless, she knew instinctually this was not time to drink in the peaceful silence, to drift off into sleep as she desperately wanted.

She was being stalked.

Even in the relative wasteland of her surroundings, there was sparse life and it rarely remained hidden or quiet for long, especially at night after the harsh sun had set and the air cooled to more comfortable temperatures. Here, everything was deadly, starving and wild. Comfort or safety were not words that she comprehended.

Carefully, she directed her attention to this new threat, sniffing the air for a clue to who or what intruded on her territory. Her body tensed, and her first thought was to flee but she knew that she must find restraint. She closed her tired eyes to concentrate, to will the rock she clutched to tell the secrets of her adversary. Sometimes, if she tried, she could seem to feel other beings if they were close enough, to gauge if their intentions were benign or deadly. Perhaps this was a reason why she survived when so many of the others had succumbed, but she never thought critically of this reflex herself. The only truth she understood was that there were two states: survival or death.

Dark eyes blinked open, to the stars, to the great infinite expanse above. Her hands bled with the force of her grip on the jagged cliff wall, and she hurt from straining to crane her neck. Ignoring the pain, she continued to use all her senses. A thin layer of sticky green blood began to dry around the hilt of her only possession, a tiny dagger. Many times this battered metal shard had stood between her and _llaihr_, the great darkness.

Abruptly aware, she knew intrinsically that this was no friend that approached her. It continued shadowing her above in the cliffs.

In the stillness, a pebble dislodged and clattered down the embankment, landing a few feet from the outcropping she clung to. The sudden disturbance startled her, and she hoped that the slight sound of her audible gasp was not enough for her quarry to detect her. Grimy fingers ritualistically stroked the edge of her blade as she channeled her fear into aggression, readied herself to attack, even kill. There was no choice, no empathy, no right or wrong. Only raw instinct guided her in a continuous fight to survive or die in agony trying.

So intent was she on the threat from above, she didn't notice that someone else had approached her position. She heard the faint whirring murmur of a tricorder servo as it passively scanned her location, verifying an existence that until now had been undocumented, unknown. Her fear gripped her with the newfound knowledge that she not only had one, but two potential threats to contend with.

_Hhakh ri-fainusu! (Stupid Stranger!)_

She tried to concentrate on the new danger and sent her mind and will out into the waste, allowing her curiosity to reign despite the acute sense of dread which this unknown element presented her.

It was in this instance that her adversary from above chose to strike-

- And the sudden heat of the first rays of sunlight as they cascaded through her bedroom window awoke her with the dawning realization that this was not Thieurrull and she was not in danger. Shuddering slightly, she composed herself, working to mentally create distance away from the reoccurring nightmare she had broken free from countless times before.

Saavik pushed chestnut curls over her elfin ears and rubbed her eyes. Peeling her light coverlet aside, she carefully padded barefoot across the warm tiled floor to the large window in what was now _her_ room, and stared speechlessly at the immensity of the Forge and the nearby peaks of the Llangon foothills. Golden light illuminated the landscape and a faint spicy scent of incense wafted vaguely through the thin air; Saavik closed her eyes to concentrate on committing the pleasant scent to memory. It was a sweet and complex smell of sand and desert blooms and a recent sandstorm had left the air feeling electrically charged; she could detect a slight metallic taste on the tip of her tongue. A shadowed movement outside caused her breath to catch but she kept her eyes closed, willing with all her strength that this was not an elaborate dream, that she would not wake up to find herself battered and alone on Hellguard.

Jarred by her reverie, her senses reminded her that she was not alone. Her guardians were up and about, discreetly going about their own morning routines as she was left to sleep.

Opening them once more, bright eyes adjusted to see a large teresh-kah as it swept its expansive silvery wings and warmed itself in the sunrise of Nevasa. It was no doubt looking for an early meal as it soared freely across the great crimson expanse. Saavik sighed heavily, relieved that fate had not played a cruel trick on her and she was still in fact standing barefoot in her room in ShiKahr._ It is illogical to daydream, _she thought as distantly the raptor's cry punctuated her silent discourse. Like so many times before since she had been whisked away on the _Symmetry_, she went through the motions of convincing herself that her living nightmare was finally over and she could relax. This was now reality and not the horrors of her past.

Allowing her shoulders to settle, she composed herself squarely once again by closing her eyes and mutely looking inward. Over the past year especially, her teacher had taught her to use discipline to find what she had at first believed to be a remote and inaccessible peaceful center. She had fought him at first, kicked and screamed with a litany of Romulan curses. It amazed her that he never struck out as she did, never screamed back. His only response was to quietly acquiesce, then later ask her permission to try again. At first untrusting in his motives and with certain disbelief that she could ever find serenity such as he described, let alone any kind of logic in her seemingly untamed and chaotic reality, Saavik stood resolute and immobile. From the beginning, she realized he could be stubborn and in her way, she would illustrate to him that she could be likewise. Somehow over the course of a few months, his patience with her had finally won out as it usually did, and she relented to at least try to succeed in the First Level of kya'shin.

Strange how now it was difficult for her to comprehend a life _without_ such introspection; she considered her early lessons, the tantrums, the tears. Each was a stepping stone down a long path. At times she still found it hard to put one foot in front of the other and keep going, but it was something she must do. To learn control was one of the greatest gifts he had ever bestowed on her, and she would always be grateful. She considered this as she heard his predictable response to such notions at the back of her thoughts:_ There is no reason to thank logic, Saavikaam_.

Descending to the floor, Saavik enlaced and steepled her tiny fingers together, focusing her energy as her eyes closed in reverence. All the while she could hear his gentle voice reminding her, patiently guiding her as she worked to build a comforting barrier between her inner self and the outside world. She allowed her consciousness to drift inward toward a perceived center. At the heart of this, she could see a flickering flame and could feel its heat as it licked and burned at the mental barrier she had constructed. Calmly, persistently, she soothed the inner blaze, tempered it until the fire became nothing more than a steady ember. It continued to burn brightly, yet she maintained control over it.

Saavik became aware again of her reality as the raptor screamed earnestly across the desert. Like the teresh-kah she was also searching, and more immediately, hungry. It was time to prepare herself for another day of her new life.

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><p>Notes:<p>

1. Saavik intrigues Spock when he first encounters her on Hellguard because she says the word "stars" in Vulcan in the novel _The Pandora Principle_ by Carolyn Clowes.  
>2. The flashback on Thieurrull is analogous to how events are described in <em>The Pandora Principle<em>, only now told from the perspective of Saavik instead of Spock.  
>3. Saavik is taken to Vulcan to live with Spock's parents according to the 1984 DC Comic <em>The Origin of Saavik<em> (#7-8) as well as in the novel _Unspoken Truths_ by Margaret Wander Bonnano.  
>4. Kya'shin translates roughly to "teaching of thought over emotion." From 'kya'= existence; ultimate abstraction of emotion and "shi'"= place of. (VLD)<p> 


	2. New Sight

**Chapter 2: New Sight**

Saavik quickly began to dress herself, choosing a silken burgundy shift from her closet which Amanda had recently purchased for her while they had been out on one of their frequent outings to the Old Quarter in ShiKahr. Although Saavik still preferred not to wear the long tunic style dresses favored by Vulcan society, she had made an agreement with Amanda, a compromise, to try to present herself in a more "lady-like fashion." The transition from bedraggled nudity to presentable had not been an easy one for her, nor had it been for Spock who had initially worked to convince her of its merits.

A flashing memory of one of her early tirades against wearing shoes came to mind. It had been almost three months since she and Spock had moved temporarily to Dantria IV and had taken up residence in a small cottage on the outskirts of the main colony. They rarely left the quiet confines of the property during that time, and in many ways Saavik wished that they would never leave at all. The idyllic wooded setting was unlike anything she had ever experienced or even dreamed could exist. In the beginning, she was fearful that if they did leave for any reason that it was possible they would never come back. That she would be forced to leave, or worse, that Spock would leave and she would be alone.

On this particular day, she remembered being warned repeatedly that if she was unwilling to wear her sandals, she would not be allowed to go into the colony with him. He had made it clear to her that although he would have preferred her to wear them all the time, he would not enforce the rule except when necessary. This time, he made it undeniable that it was in fact, necessary.

"Please Saavikaam, we must get ready to leave. It is imperative that we restock our dwindling supplies. I would not be much of a guardian to you if I allowed you to survive on nothing but prepared krei'la biscuits and drink outdated sheekuya na'na."

Saavik crossed her arms and scowled. "_Must_? Must why? I _hates_ these stupid un-comfort-able sandals, Spock! Hates them!"

"I am _most_ aware of your preference to go barefoot, but it will soon be too late to leave and return before nightfall. Put them on, Saavikaam."

"No!" She screamed emphatically, and stamped her bare foot to the wooden floor planks to emphasize her position. Her eyes blazed, black as coal and utterly defiant.

"_Now_, Saavikaam." Spock replied with his typical regard of sternness mixed with infinite patience.

"_Dhat_!" she screamed back in Romulan, as she tore one of the sandals from Spock's outstretched hand and lobbed it as hard as possible at his face. Catching him off guard, it sailed through the air and impacted with his cheek, the metal buckle raking across his skin. The impact quickly turned his skin a slightly darker olive caste as a bruise began to form and a faint trickle of green blood began to well up from the scratch.

But, despite this violent turn of events Spock did not react or even say one word. His only response was to stare impassively at his misbehaving ward, standing his ground while waiting for her to make the next move.

Eyes wide with the realization of what she had done and suddenly feeling sorrowful at having physically hurt him, Saavik blushed verdantly and reached for the other shoe that he still offered her. She dutifully put it on before slinking past him to retrieve its mate. She felt awful, ashamed. How could he look her in the eye after this? Why does he even care at all?

As she quickly slipped on the misbegotten second sandal from across the room, she heard Spock gracefully cross the floor of her bedroom and walk towards the open door.

"_Cha'i t'naat_, Saavikaam."

While that was not the first or last of her tantrums, it was certainly one of the worst. She still wondered at times how Spock had found the strength of will to tolerate her many reactionary outbursts of illogical emotion. Reflecting on those early days were sometimes as pleasant as they were difficult, and soon the memory passed and Saavik found herself blushing again, clutching and wrinkling, her new tunic.

Returning to the present task at hand, she slipped it on over her head, smoothed out the wrinkles as best she could and straightened the hemlines appropriately. Rummaging through the closet, she found matching burgundy sandals and deftly slipped them on before tying thin straps ending in tiny clasps around her ankles. She had agreed to the burgundy dress only because of the color, and only because it was the same shade of crimson as the Starfleet uniform of her favorite teacher. At the time, she thought that she had the upper hand in the argument. She later understood that it was Amanda who had really come out the victor. Saavik had learned quickly that everyone in the House of Sekir were shrewd and patient negotiators, born to lead and bred to diplomacy. She still had much to learn.

Stepping up to her vanity mirror, she brushed out the tangles of her dark curly hair before carefully arranging it in a updo style that Lady Amanda had painstakingly taught her. It was explained to her that it was not "lady-like" to allow one's hair to not be carefully pinned up; only provincial or unbonded children and those from off-world did not follow this Vulcan cultural convention. In adulthood, those who were involved in civil or defensive service would typically cut their hair into a close cropped style for the sake of homogeny, and this look was a most identifiable trait to others in the Federation. With this in mind, Saavik had been quite reluctant and argumentative on the subject, employing that Spock had never forced her to keep her hair tied back and therefore it must _not_ be logical. But, as with many things, she had eventually relented. After all, it would be ungrateful of her to be unwilling to compromise on something as stupid as her hair when Sarek and Amanda had committed to do so much for her.

With her dressing and hair routine taken care of, Saavik left her room and ambled down the hallway past the sleeping quarters, library and study rooms of the villa. Playfully skipping, she descended the slight rise into the expansive family room on her way to the kitchen. Briefly, she stopped to look up at a treasured painting which Amanda had commissioned many years before. Saavik found it difficult to imagine that at one time, the tiny stoic Vulcan child depicted next to the glowing figure of his mother could have possibly been her illustrious mentor. Although neither of the figures smiled, the feelings of his mother were easily conveyed through her loving countenance. It was a somewhat strange centerpiece to the otherwise stately and traditional Vulcan home. There were other Terran touches, like plushy couches and the numerous bookshelves overburdened with a lifetimes worth of Amanda's collecting. The painting most of all remained intriguing_. _

_As Spock would say, Fascinating_.

Remembering the present, Saavik rushed off towards the kitchen. Bursting in, she skidded to a stop, all at once aware of her newly learned propriety as she spotted Amanda sitting at her very Terran style kitchen table. It was another one of her guardian's "Earthly concessions" as she referred to them.

Beaming slightly, Amanda took in the sight of her young charge_. So is this what it feels like to preen over a daughter? _She mused silently to herself before finally addressing Saavik, who waited pensively to be acknowledged.

"Where's the fire?" she chided, amused by the child's abrupt entry.

"There is none that I am aware of!" Saavik cried out, suddenly unsure and hesitating.

"No, no child. There isn't really a fire! I was only teasing you about being so in a rush." Amanda's playful smile suddenly broke through, a telltale sign that she was indeed joking. Motioning Saavik to come in and sit down, she got up from her chair to begin fixing breakfast.

"I do not understand what is funny about fire; Spock would not think it was funny. He would always tell me it was dangerous, even if I told him I would be safe. One time we saw fireworks on Dantria and I wanted to see them closer so he let me watch while he lit them. It was most interesting. Except for the lecture on combustion, which was far less so."

Amanda chuckled softly as Saavik related her tale, amused by Spock's method of instruction. "My dear, Spock would not admit to humor in any circumstance. But I will admit to finding humor in his style of teaching as well as in the delightful way in which you related the incident."

"Perhaps someday I will see how you so easily find humor in things, Lady Amanda. I don't think I will tell Spock if I do, though." A brief upturn of a smile graced Saavik's face and Amanda laughed again.

_He really met his match in you, didn't he?_

Reaching over to a stasis drawer, Amanda pulled out a bunch of grapes and two fresh pla-savas and began slicing the bluish fruit into multiple sections. Saavik settled into her chair at the table and Amanda soon joined her with the fruit and a plate of krei'la biscuits. A pitcher of orange juice already graced the table, and Amanda poured glasses for them both before settling back into her seat.

"So, what is on the agenda for today, Saavikaam? I have a few ideas, but I wondered if you had something special in mind. After all, it would be a waste to not go out since I can see how carefully and beautifully you have arranged yourself today." Amanda's eyes twinkled, and she made no effort to cover her smile.

All at once self-conscious, Saavik hid her face in embarrassment. It was still difficult to fit into the new conventions of Vulcan culture and most of the time she still felt uncertain if she was even doing it right.

"Oh no, I didn't mean to put you on the spot dear. I only meant to tell you that you are quite radiant today and it would be _my_ _pleasure_ to escort you wherever your heart desired." Amanda also dipped her head and met Saavik with concern and tenderness.

Saavik realized then that she had nothing to feel awkward about, that in fact she had misconstrued Amanda's intended compliment. Swallowing some juice, her face now impassive, she arched one eyebrow slightly, her dark eyes meeting Amanda's.

"I was reading one of your Terran books and it said that 'flattery will get you nowhere.' I looked it up on my computer, but still could not figure it out how one would think to be propelled by it anyhow. I think I understand now." Her face remained Vulcan calm, but her eyes betrayed her jest.

"You really have a wicked wit when you put your mind to it, don't you? You know, you remind me of someone more and more each day." She said the last line wistfully. "But really, is there nothing you wish to do today?" Taking a bite of her krei'la shortbread, Amanda waited for a response.

With slight hesitation, Saavik took a small bite of her own biscuit, chewed carefully, then responded in turn. It was still a challenge to use eating utensils, but Vulcans never touched their food with their hands if it was in any way avoidable.

"Yesterday, when I was studying on the library computer I saw a strange article with pictures in it. There was so much water and fish, but the people did not try to eat them! They only look. It was called an aqu-, aquar-ee-um-." She stumbled on the word, unsure of the pronunciation.

"Ah, an aquarium! Hmmm, it may be difficult to see something like that on Vulcan. Water is not something to waste on fish."

Saavik tried not to let her disappointment show, but Amanda was to quick after spending so many years around Vulcans.

"But you know," she said, her voice melodic, "I may just know the second best option."

Rising from her seat, Amanda started to clear the table in preparation for their departure and Saavik rose to help her, depositing her leftovers in the recycler.

"I think today we will in fact have quite an adventure after all."

She touched Saavik's shoulder lightly with affection, steering her towards the foyer of the villa. With evidence of many years practice, Amanda quickly tied back her hair in a scarf. The two were soon on their way out the door, to what and where Saavik could not fathom.

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><p>Notes:<p>

1. _Cha'i t'naat_ can be translated as "thank you", but in this more formal syntax also implies respect to the person being addressed.  
>2. Krei'la is a popular Vulcan breakfast food. Some have described it as a tasting like a scone or shortbread.<br>3. Sheekuya na'na is a popular Vulcan style tea with a pleasantly mild mint-orange flavor usually served cold. (VLD)  
>4. The portrait of Amanda and Spock is a reference to the novel <em>Demons<em> by J.M. Dillard.  
>5. Hgrtcha is given as Spock's clan name in the novel <em>Ishmael<em> by Barbara Hambly. D.C. Fontana coined Xtmprsqzntlwlfb. There is some serious debate as to the which name is more acceptable. According to _The Way of Kolinahr_, Sarek and his family descend from the House of Sekir.


	3. Beyond the Sea

**Chapter 3: Beyond The Sea**

"Sem-rik!"

It was all she could say as she and Amanda walked in to the brightly lit experimental marine laboratory. Amazed, Saavik stared at a pod of giant Caldorian eels enclosed in a tank designed for study at the Vulcan Science Academy. Her face was soon pressed as close as it could get, her hands pushed flat against the cool glass. The colossal enclosure housed four of the gigantic creatures, two males and two females. Each eel was nearly three meters in length. Their scales glistened vibrantly and a rainbow of colors danced and sparkled before an enraptured audience of one.

"_Fascinating_, I know." Amanda grinned, pleased that her Aquarium Solution had made the desired impact. She mentally patted herself on the back for her ingenuity.

"Why do Vulcans keep them?" Saavik inquired excitedly. "Why do the eels not try to escape? Don't they want to go home? How did they get inside here anyways, they can't walk!"

"So many questions, little one. Unfortunately, _I _can only answer one at a time."

Patiently Amanda observed, having missed the feeling of seeing a young child's wonderment for so many years. Saavik certainly possessed a boundless curiosity. Nothing was inconsequential to her, and everything was new and exciting. Well before Spock had been her age, he was already somewhat difficult to impress. Amanda remembered the great lengths that she went to engage him. More often than not, Spock remained unmoved. Of course he was always polite about it, never admitting to his disinterest and humoring his silly, feeling mother. It was difficult for Amanda to come to terms at times that he was not a typical little boy, despite however small and delicate he seemed to her.

On the other hand, Spock's experiences as a boy in comparison to Saavik were in fact grossly incomparable. As the son of a Federation Ambassador and Amanda herself a prominent researcher and teacher in her field of linguistics and literature, her little boy had wanted for practically nothing, at least materially_._

_It's a shame we couldn't buy back those eighteen years, though_, Amanda thought ruefully to herself.

Saavik stepped away from the tank and turned to her guardian. Her head slightly cocked to one side, she was waiting eagerly to hear a response to at least _one_ of her queries.

Recognizing the stance of an inquiring mind impatient for knowledge, a learned cultural behavior she had often seen in Spock, Amanda responded carefully. "To answer your first question my dear, these eels are being _studied_. They have a unique gland which creates a kind of natural oil and someday it could be used as medicine. These eels might help many people live better lives."

"Will the scientists kill them?" Imploring eyes blazed, entranced. "Dissect them?" A pained expression crossed over her, eradicating the look of childlike innocence she had moments ago possessed.

"No, that's the best part. The eels create the oil inside their bodies and then dispel it naturally. The scientists here merely collect it. All in all, it's more like an eel bed and breakfast than a scientific experiment. They eat, swim and play and are then returned to the Caldorian Ocean afterwards."

Saavik seemed to mull the new information in her mind for a moment. Amanda thought that she could literally see the wheels turning behind her eyes as the child worked through the answers to some questions and undoubtedly created a new list of others.

"But maybe then… they will not want to go back to the ocean? Maybe they will want to stay if they are so happy here! Is it unfair to make them go then?" Puzzled, Saavik pressed her face against the glass once more and stared deeply into one luminous green eye of the closest eel.

"Perhaps I didn't explain that quite right. I do think that they would want to go home, but I also don't think they are upset to be here. But I wouldn't know because I'm not a Caldorian eel."

Accepting Amanda's frank honesty, Saavik ventured further. "If I were a Caldorian eel, I would want to stay here. It seems much safer than the ocean and I am sure Vulcans would never hurt me, right?" She hesitated for a moment before finishing her train of thought. "But it is _not_ logical to think as if I were an eel, anyways." Tapping the glass slightly to get the attention of the closest eel, the shimmering leviathan suddenly swam towards her, coming nose to nose and stopping to stare before zooming away to the far side of the tank.

"Saavikaam, I think that the scientists would want to make sure that _most of all_ the eels were happy and safe. _And_ _no_, the Vulcans wouldn't ever harm a scale on their slimy serpentine bodies. Also, I don't believe there is any problem with thinking 'outside of the box', so to speak. Just as long as it leads to more thinking."

Saavik narrowed her eyes, continuing to assess the inner workings of the marine environment while disseminating Amanda's latest revelation.

"Maybe it would not be very logical to think trapped inside a box, either," she remarked, deadpan impassive.

Making a sideways grin and stepping closer, Amanda lightly brushed Saavik's shoulder. It was her signal that it was nearly time to leave. With a heavy sigh Saavik stepped away from the tank, acknowledging Amanda's silent command and followed her from the lab and away from her new favorite spectacle. Despite her suddenly cool demeanor, Saavik was fighting and resisting the urge to run back and continue to observe. She struggled, knowing that control was required. Nor did she want to displease her escort.

Amanda herself was speechless that Saavik had obeyed instantly as she did. It seemed uncharacteristically like her to not offer at least a faint struggle when being pulled away from something so new and mesmerizing. Her first response to the tank was interesting all in itself; as Vulcans were a desert species and the planet itself had only two large seas of water to speak of, most were a bit unnerved when confronted with large amounts of it. Water had been revered since ancient times as a resource paramount for survival; clans had battled and killed for it and defended precious oases over multiple generations. Sarek's own clan had defended the ShiKahr Oasis since before Surak's time. As incredibly scarce as it was in the arid desert climate, not so much as a drop would be intentionally wasted. The prospect of drowning may have been a seemingly irrational fear in the middle of the desert, yet water itself evoked an intense source of common anxiety that remained strong throughout the planet's cultural evolution.

The eels being over three meters had also been massive compared to Saavik's relatively small size, yet she had stared them down, eye to eye. Perhaps it was a characteristic of her Rihanh genes, or just her own raw brand of fearlessness and curiosity. Whatever the reason, it was a sight to behold. Even the Vulcan research team tasked with the eel study didn't just _hang out_ near the tank unless it was necessary.

As to the matter of Saavik's quick obedience, it was most likely a sign that she was finally channeling some of her anxiety and usual aggressiveness, a reflection of her continued studies in Vulcan discipline. Between Spock and Sarek's tutelage, it was almost guaranteed that her journey closer to c'thia, and in turn passion's mastery, would be inevitable.

Amanda almost regretted cutting the afternoon lesson in wonderment so short. Sooner than she would probably like, Saavik would _need_ to find her control in order to integrate into adult Vulcan society, especially if she were to have any chance at pairing with a bondmate in the traditional Vulcan way. While she didn't want to push that particular issue for many reasons, she knew it was still important to consider. Although still a child, Saavik had been given a choice as to her preferred path. Quite vocally, she had chosen to follow by Spock's example: to practice the disciplines of the mind, the pursuit of c'thia and above all study the nonviolent teachings of Surak. And with an indomitable will such as this child had to try to control, it would certainly be quite a journey indeed.

As they both walked silently down the hallway and out towards the campus quad, Amanda inwardly sighed_. _

_Soon, it will be just me again floating in a sea of Logic. And Lord knows, even among this bunch that I'm not the best of swimmers_.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Caldorian eels are referenced in TNG: _Unification_ I., although there is no canon source info on their actual appearance or first discovery.  
>2. The "eighteen years" is a reference to the fallout between Spock and Sarek over Starfleet Academy.<br>3. In regards to Vulcan aquaphobia: Spock didn't seem very keen on being in San Francisco Bay in _Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home_. Also, Vulcans typically do not know how to swim, as in the case of Dr. Selar in the _New Frontiers_ novel series.  
>4. The Voroth and Thanor Seas are the two major bodies of water still present on Vulcan. At one time in the planet's ancient history, Vulcan was covered in 90% water. (<em>Spock's World<em> by Diane Duane; _The Way of the Kolinahr: The Vulcans, _Last Unicorn RPG_)_


	4. Same Argument, Different Stars

**Chapter 4: Same Argument, Different Stars**

_Later that same day, aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701 near Andoria (Procyon VIII)._

"Even I can tell you're only one eyebrow from fidgeting out of your seat, Spock. You can't bluff me after all these years. You're homesick!"

"I assure you Doctor that the only thing I could truly be sick of is your incessant need to cross examine me using your obviously biased and human centered psychoanalyses. I am not in any way unwell."

"Sure, right. Considering you _are_ half-human, I figure it's got to work at least _half_ the time." Blue eyes twinkling, McCoy continued. "Regardless, I can't figure out _why_ you'd want to go back to that dust storm you call a planet, but I guess you have your own reasons."

"Perhaps you should wonder the same of your revered Terra. When I return to Vulcan, at least there is no chance I will suffer from pneumonia or any one of the number of noxious 'bugs' your home planet harbors in abundance. It is no wonder why you chose such a profession, as it seems entirely useful to just barely survive. One wonders how your kind _ever_ stepped out of its own Dark Age."

McCoy glared back, squinting one eye slightly as he thought up his next retort. Unfortunately, even he had to admit that Spock had given him quite a zinger in his last barb. Right as he was about to fire back, a soft _whoosh _signaled that someone had just stepped into Sick Bay, and by the surefooted fall of footsteps, McCoy already knew who without turning around and before the door had _whooshed_ close once more.

"Well Jim, it seems you're right in time. I was just telling Spock how testy he's been lately and blast if he didn't prove my own point." Beaming, the Doctor turned around to face Kirk, clearly enjoying himself in the moment.

"Well, unfortunately, I didn't have time to throw a parade in your honor or cast a trophy, Bones. I guess you'll just have to be satisfied with a silent victory."

Nonplussed, Spock raised an eyebrow, betraying even his own amusement. "I would hardly call it a victory, Doctor. It would be if only _you_ were truly silent."

McCoy put on a somewhat over exaggerated frown as Kirk held his hand over his mouth, hardly able to control his laughter. Even after all these years, it was still amusing, almost even reassuring, to hear the banter between his two best friends. It was what he had missed the most when the first five year mission had ended, and they had all gone their own separate ways for a time. Funny how in such a big universe, they all seemed to find their way back to _Enterprise_. While Kirk might call it something akin to good fortune, and Bones would say it was just his damnable luck, he knew Spock would simply argue it was Logic.

"As good as the punch line was, I'm regretful I walked in after the joke had begun. Just what are you two going on about, anyways?" Crossing his arms over his chest, Kirk patiently waited, not entirely certain he would even get a response. As easily as these two could mince words into fine powder, they could also be incredibly tight lipped when it served them. Kirk tapped his toe and raised an eyebrow of his own for emphasis. "I'm waiting, gentlemen."

"Well Jim, I was just giving our favorite Vulcanoid here some friendly psychoanalysis. I told him he was homesick and he basically told me to go to hell." McCoy clucked softly, while resting a needling gaze back at Spock.

"As usual, you exaggerate, Doctor. I merely advised that perhaps you should not be so judgmental in your assumptions, and that your ill-conceived comparisons of Vulcan and Terra are exceedingly biased. I do find it interesting that you would consider my analysis as telling you to go to some mythical underworld. I will not in this instance argue with your assessment as it seems more plausible than your prior allusions."

"Well, if we're going to draw parallels between _some people's _home planets and hell, it seems that you have the corner on that monopoly and I'm certain you would be the best to judge these _allusions _based on personal experience."

Spock ruffled a bit, and placed his hands behind his back as Kirk smiled wryly, obviously entertained.

"Hmmm, got your pitchfork in a twist, huh? Looks like I may have gotten you in that last one." Chuckling to himself, McCoy finally regained his composure before speaking again. "In all seriousness though, I _was_ being serious. You seem preoccupied lately. Even a tad pensive. Not peckish though, I might add. In fact, the last time I saw you even the slightest bit agitated, it was during a certain _incident_ in 2267 in which we were all a party to... If you catch my drift. And what do you know, we're so conveniently close to Vulcan that I can nearly feel my lungs fill up with cinnamon scented dust-"

Halfway through McCoy's rapid fire tirade, Spock looked over at Jim with what could only be described as the most subtle of _help me_ faces, a visage Kirk had learned to read after many, many years of friendship. When one spent as much time in dangerous crossfires as these two had, it was a matter of survival to assess and react quickly and proficiently.

"All right Bones, I think you've had your say. And by the way, your math is terrible for a doctor. How _did_ you become chief surgeon?" Kirk tsked softly, wagging one finger in admonition. He couldn't help but enjoy giving McCoy a taste of his own vile medicine once in a while. The Doctor eyed him like a copper mouth at first, then began noticeably counting off on his fingers, ending with what in previous centuries in Earth culture would have been an obviously obscene gesture.

Spock shifted on his feet again, bowing his head to the side in embarrassment. He felt uncomfortable as his friends continued to 'air his dirty laundry' as they would phrase it. Clearing his throat, Spock looked not at them, but between both men before he spoke.

"Indeed, it would seem along with your beads and rattles, you are sorely in need of an abacus. To be clear Doctor, what you have so coyly asked in your illogically roundabout way is in fact _not_ the case. It could not be farther from the truth. But, if you must know, I _am_ admittedly preoccupied. It has been an adjustment to leave Saavik, although I know she is in most capable hands."

Eyeing Spock suspiciously for a moment, McCoy attempted to see if he was really divulging the full truth or using the kid as a cover. After looking him over for a few longs seconds, the tension broke as he smiled widely and mockingly punched Spock on the shoulder.

"You old softy. I never thought YOU would be the one with a tiny tot keeping ya wrapped around her finger. Personally, I always figured you'd _scare_ children, not draw 'em in close." He made a gesture as though he had a rope in the air, then sent it flying as if lassoing cattle. At this point, both McCoy and Kirk were nearly in tears.

Sighing slightly, Spock crossed his arms over his chest. His gesture made it clear that he was finally at the end of his patience, even with these two.

"If you gentlemen are finished indulging yourselves at my expense, I _do_ have a personal call to make while we are so close to Vulcan. Goodnight."

And with that he started his stride across Sick Bay towards the door and his quarters, not bothering to wait for a response. He heard McCoy's vulgar riposte resonate before the door could _whoosh_ closed.

_"Don't keep your little lady up past her bedtime, Spock!"_

Peals of laughter echoed into the hallway.

_Children_. Spock intoned mutely, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. The Incident of 2267 refers to events in TOS: _Amok Time_.  
>2. "Beads and Rattles" is one of the most memorable banter quotes between Spock and McCoy during the five year mission, from TOS: <em>I, Mudd.<em>


	5. Remorse Is Hard To Swallow

**Chapter 5: Remorse Is Hard To Swallow**

_U.S.S. Enterprise, Sick Bay_

The laughter finally subsided and came to an end with both McCoy and Kirk feeling nearly exhausted by the release. It felt good to be able to let off a little steam, especially with the current situation aboard ship wearing everyone's nerves a little thin, including seemingly the typically untouchable Mr. Spock. Whereas the crew was trained for action, the last five weeks had been little more than a Federation 'milk run', with the _Enterprise_ dutifully ferrying delegates and low profile ambassadors from the Alpha to Beta Quadrants and back again. Although the safety of Federation delegates to the newly inducted planet of Beta Zeta V was a high priority, such relative inaction tended to make the crew antsy.

"So Doctor, how about we break out a shot of some real medicine? I'm certain even you can't heal all my wounds with those beads and rattles you are so fond of."

"Oh, wipe that cute smirk off your face. I'm not senile; I can hear you hurling that hobgoblin's taunts at me in his absence." McCoy reached up to a shelf and opened a cabinet above Jim's head, retrieving what looked to be a very old bottle filled with dark amber liquid and a defined layer of dust crusted around the neck. Kentucky Bourbon, no doubt.

"No beads and rattles, but at least you keep a supply of fire water."

"You should be so lucky I'm even still allowing you into my inner sanctum, let alone sharing my most holy of holies." He held up the bottle to the ceiling, made a brief mock benediction and set the bottle down on the counter. Two small crystal glasses were also carefully guided off the shelf, and met the counter with a gentle ping. McCoy wasted no time pouring.

"Doctor's orders, I think we need a couple of shots. And this Jim, _this_ will definitely grow hair _somewhere_. No guarantees it will be on your chest, though."

"Perfect, I could use a little stimulation. I'm not proud of it, but I'm honestly bored of this _mission_, Bones." Kirk took his glass and held it up to his friend. "Bottoms up."

Each of them took their shot, and McCoy poured another dram in each glass.

"Getting generous in your old age, too? Sure you aren't getting senile?" Kirk downed the second shot before McCoy had a chance to recall it and pour it back in the bottle out of sheer spite.

"Jim, you'd have to do better than that to rankle my rusty chains. But as for your other sentiment, I hear you and I agree. You know, I kind of feel guilty for our little bit of fun earlier. I think I let my own nerves take things to far, even for me." His blue eyes softened and he shifted restlessly, leaning against the countertop.

"Don't tell Spock, but… as a father, I know what it's like to worry long distance. Granted, sometime I feel that I don't have a right to even do that. It's been too long since I've seen Joanna. My ex has no qualms over that arrangement, I'm sure." McCoy threw back his second bourbon in one practiced swig.

Jim tried to show compassion for his long time friend. He knew that McCoy's divorce had happened many years before they had ever met. Years had not distanced the man from the loss, and it plagued the doctor like a phantom limb: his family, his life that could have been. Of all the strange and mysterious maladies, viruses, syndromes and physical ailments that McCoy had treated and cured, across light years and among countless species, it was clear that there was no magic hypo-spray in the galaxy that could dull the ache of regret.

"I'm just not used to seeing him vulnerable, even a bit. I guess I took advantage. So much for my crack psychoanalytic skills. Maybe I should run a diagnostic on my own head sometime."

Trying to lighten the moment, Jim responded to his friends sudden openness. "Why Bones, I don't believe my ears. Is that an admission of real remorse I detect?"

"Funny you should mention ears." He smiled wryly for a moment. "Don't rub it in, though. I mean it. For all that fancy command training of yours, this is _one_ area where you really have no idea what you're talking about. Being a parent changes you, even when you try to run from it. Lord knows, I'm only human and a quite imperfect specimen at that, but _that_ was one mistake that I can never fix and I'll be damned for it as long as I draw breath." His mood turning melancholy, Kirk took the change in tone to mean it was time to switch gears and be serious.

"I admit, you're completely right, Bones. I don't really get it and at this point in my life, it doesn't seem I ever will. I'm sorry, and I won't pretend to understand but I'll listen." Kirk smiled warmly at McCoy, and briefly squeezed his arm in support before pouring them both another half shot. "Maybe you could try to free one demon this time and go apologize. I'm sure Spock would let you live it down eventually. Maybe even forget in a century or so."

McCoy snorted, and put the ancient bottle back on the shelf before replying.

"I don't think I need any more liquid courage, but it would explain my behavior if I showed up and apologized stone drunk. I already know what he's going to say, anyways." Grimacing a bit, McCoy breathed a heavy sigh. "After all,_ apologies are illogical_. If no offense was meant, it should not have been given in the first place."

"Yeah, I know Bones. Don't think you are the first man who has had to apologize to Spock. In that department, I know I have you beat. I admit, it _isn't_ pleasant. But in seriousness, maybe you should. I know he's probably making a call to Vulcan right now since this is the closest we'll be in range for at least a couple weeks. Uhura is still on the Bridge working on a diagnostic. I don't see why you can't ask her when a certain subspace message squirt from a certain cabin on deck five has finished its transmission, and _then_ go say your peace."

"Damn it, I think that man's logic has ruined you. All right, I'll go." McCoy took a step away from the counter, then one forward as he grabbed both the crystal glasses in one hand while he pointed his index finger at Kirk before continuing. "But you know, part of me feels like _you_ had a hand in this too. We both let it escalate and I think we should be a united front. It's not entirely fair if you get to play Devil's Advocate." McCoy's eyes gleamed in knowing that he had struck Kirk's Achilles' heel.

Hands on his hips, Kirk let out a long slow breath as he looked up towards the ceiling. He knew McCoy was right, as much as it pained him.

"All right, you win. We'll both fan out the flames of hell together."

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Beta Zeta V, better known as Betazed, became a Federation member in the year 2273.  
>2. The conversation about fatherhood alludes to David Marcus, who at this point in the timeline is unknown to Kirk as his son.<p> 


	6. Meditations

**Chapter 6: Meditations**

_U.S.S. Enterprise, Deck Five, Spock's Quarters_

As his cabin door whooshed open and then closed swiftly behind him, Spock finally allowed himself to relax his control just a fraction. Inside his quarters he could be comfortable; the temperature was Vulcan normal at 112°F, somewhat chilly even. His flame pot which constantly fumed gave off the sweet smell of hearth. Sweet, spicy, _Vulcan_ desert hearth. Even the lighting which he had set to emit a redder than usual glow, was incredibly welcome as opposed to the bright sterile lights that illuminated every nook and cranny, day or night, onboard the rest of the ship.

Unfortunately, there was no time for him to settle in and relax. His minor squabble with McCoy in Sick Bay had taxed his patience, as well as his time. He had planned to meditate for a an hour before messaging Saavik, but if he waited much longer his window of opportunity would be nonexistent and it would be far too late to bother calling at all and _well past her bedtime _as the good Doctor had so graciously reminded him_._ Twenty minutes would have to be sufficient. He had no intentions of letting his guard down with his family as he had so disgracefully done around McCoy. Granted, they probably would not be antagonizing him so flippantly over something as taboo as pon farr, but then again, nothing was ever certain. Especially when it came to family.

_Kaiidth_.

Spock made his way to the ancient firepot he had owned since childhood, since he had first begun his early journey towards a'rie'mnu. It was an heirloom of his clan and depicted the form of one of Vulcan's ancient demons known as Ket-cheleb, the personification of anger and destruction. While an outsider to the Vulcan Disciplines may have misunderstood it, he knew that it was one of the many reminders to him of his specie's violent and irrational past as well as their need to strive for peace and adhere to the Path of Surak, the Tu-Surak. Above all else, it was also a reminder of his own inner flame which required moderation and control less it succumb to anger and then, ensuing destruction.

Wasting no more time, Spock carefully unrolled a thin reed mat before the ancient smoldering statuette. The towering winged beast puffed a wisp of smoky incense from the vessel it held in its taloned grip, and his eyes blazed a penetrating glare.

In the interest of time he broke with habit, choosing to forgo changing into his usual black pelal, a robe decorated in Vulcan calligraphic script. It was not necessary. He dropped to the floor as he was, still in uniform, and assumed the loshiraq position. In this traditional "Lotus" pose, he immediately became more at ease. Closing his eyes, he adjusted his posture and allowed his long delicate fingers to fall into place, as he had done so many times before. His bio control began to calm and slow down his metabolism with each measured breath, and even his inner eyelids relaxed and closed on their own.

For someone as experienced as he, who had nearly attained Kolinahr, it was not usually difficult to begin to organize and calm his thoughts, to "follow logic down the dark rabbit hole" as his mother playfully described it. Remembering as a child, he could scarcely understand how the _absolute_ of c'thia could be compared to a nonsensical and inconstant white rabbit in a perpetual state of chaos. Eventually he conceded (only to his mother, of course) that even _he_ could see in the colorful image a crude metaphor of sorts.

No matter, this stray thought of Terran woodland mammals and children's fantasy was distraction, a _saglakolaya_, and he gently cast it aside.

To drift towards his perceived center, to allow the world to fade away around him until there was only pure thought... This task he set his mind to do without regard for anything else; to attain a state of total mindfulness, wherein one could see and understand the inner workings of one's own self, but also find the answers to deeper problems requiring a higher commitment to the study of logic. It was in this 'space' of mind that he often sought and found comfort and refuge. He continued to drift, allowing himself to be one with the void and the natural ebb and flow of the universe. He visualized himself floating effortlessly, untethered and unhindered. Distracting thoughts and emotions had no place here. For a few brief minutes, he was one with everything and nothing.

Ultimately he was unable to escape the demands of structured time, and heard a lilting bell inside his mind that always reminded him it was time to leave this most sacred of inner spaces and return to reality.

Breathing one last cleansing breath in and outward, expelling the last of his distress, he opened his eyes. Spock knew that while his meditations had been brief, they had been a most satisfactory and necessary exercise. Rising from his sitting position, he bowed to the fire idol before rolling up the reed mat and reverently tucking it back where it had been stored near the firepot. He looked at the glittering embers and sprinkled a small amount of _kevas _incense as offering. He considered momentarily that although one must be able to control their inner flame, they must never exert so much control that the flame is forced to snuff itself out. Beyond that, the other hardest lesson of Passions Mastery was that despite even perfect control, the fire would have its day to rule. When it did, it would demand respect and utter pliancy. In this exchange, Vulcan's kept their individual logic until each was called at their own Burning Time and consigned to weather the flame with only the help of their mate, or die trying.

Turning away, Spock composed himself for a moment more before flipping on his terminal and sitting down at the familiar workstation. The last thing he needed was to start thinking of the ancient rites of flame before talking with his parents. So much for perfect control.

"Computer, contact Shikahr, Vulcan via subspace direct com-link using personal code 99.472SP. Execute."

"Working," replied the gravely automated voice.

Amid a few beeps and buzzes, the connection clicked with the usual sound of code being accepted and initiated.

After over five weeks of being totally incommunicado, he was sure that his young charge would have no end of things to tell him, and he admitted only to himself that he was quite pleased with the prospect of seeing her growth and hearing of her studies and adventures. But most of all, to know that she was… happy. Illogical, but the truth could not be denied.

Clicking and whirring, his terminal finally lit up as his call request was initiated.

And then it was as if the last five weeks had meant nothing, and everything that annoyed him slipped away as her face lit up the screen. He did not betray anything through his unreadable mask, but in his heart he could not altogether deny a hint of feeling. He was not certain his voice would not betray him. He needed to be composed; after all, he _was_ supposed to be a role model of control.

"Sanokik nash snagel k'odu, Saavikaam."

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. _Kaiidth_ is a common Vulcan phrase meaning "What is, is." Its root word is _kya_, meaning the existence of truth.  
>2. Ket-Cheleb is an ancient god in Vulcan tradition as well as Romulan. It is also the name of the first planet in the 40 Eridani System. Those who left Vulcan and disregarded Surak's teachings were known as the <em>Children of Ket-Cheleb.<em> I like the contrast of Spock battling it out against this particular demon using the power of c'thia. Also, some may identify Spock's fire idol as Shariel, the supposed god of death. There is literally no conclusive info on the bust or legitimate mythos besides the fact that Dorothy Fontana supposedly came up with this name according to some DVD commentary. Ket-Cheleb wins this round.  
>3. In TAS<em>: Once Upon A Planet<em>, Spock mentions that his mother was quite fond of Lewis Carroll and read _Alice Through the Looking Glass_ to him as a child. It is interesting to note that the author was a famed logician and mathematician as well as a prolific writer. "Snarks and Boojums" also made an appearance in the novelization of _Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan._  
>4. Kevas and trillium is often used by Vulcans as incense. It has a distinctive scent, and also reminds Spock of his mother who is fond of it according to the novel <em>Prime Directive<em> by Judith & Garfield Reeves Stevens.  
>5. 'Sanokik nash snagel k'odu' is a formal greeting, meaning "It is most agreeable to see you".<p> 


	7. Memories Left in the Sand

**Chapter 7: Memories Left In The Sand**

"Rom-khru, _Spohkh_," exclaimed Saavik solemnly; she had carefully added the _h_ at the end, as would be preferable not only to show deference by honor for age and station but as was proper for pronunciation in Traditional Golic Vulcan. Her coppery eyes gleamed and her face nearly belied her obviously new found control. She was still fierce, but she was learning to mask rather well. No doubt, with Sarek's constant attention, she would be advancing through the mental and behavioral disciplines quickly yet successfully.

"Your inflection is improving, Saavikaam. How have your other lessons progressed?"

Spock waited patiently as she told him of her studies in language and science, her new found fondness for many of Amanda's ancient Terran volumes full of stories about human legends and fanciful mythic beasts, her excitement about tasting new foods and seeing lematyas for the first time on the Forge.

Meanwhile Spock was assessing the many pieces of a rather interesting puzzle. Saavik was sitting in Sarek's office, in his high-backed ceremonial clan chair no less and looking rather comfortable in it. He could understand that because it had been a favored place of his at one time. He could see that she had been playing with one of his childhood logic puzzles, a pleenok. Also satisfactory. His mother had obviously been busy over the last few months giving her etiquette lessons. Although he had regretted not having time to focus on many of the more obscure social niceties, Saavik had been a struggle to tame, to convince to even _wear_ clothes, let alone fashionable dress. He had been more concerned with teaching her to speak, read, and feed herself.

Her progress was turning out to be more than satisfactory indeed, and like Saavik herself, always full of surprises. He also noted the color of her tunic. Perhaps it was an assumption that the color was a perfect match to his own uniform attire.

_ Imitation is the best form of flattery_. His mother most definitely had a hand in this and she was not known for her subtlety among Vulcans for obvious reasons.

Finally, Spock observed that her hair was oddly neatly bound, wavy curls fighting at every inch. More to the point, it was swept up in a complicated classic Vulcan style double braid, usually traditional for a young girl just past the age of seven. Part of the tresses were then pulled to the front, then woven back into one braid and firmly secured by a gilded ruby hair clasp. He had not seen it in many years and it was an heirloom dated nearly six hundred years old. He knew that it was his mother who would desire to dress her up like a "china doll", experience for herself what it could be like to have a daughter instead of a son. To finally have another chance to guide and nurture a child again. But.. Saavik was nearly twelve, and she had only been on Vulcan for little over two months…

_If her hair is bound, is **she**? Would they bond her and not even tell me of her fate?_

A sickening feeling started to take over and Spock had to force his composure, fighting lest it slip away. Memories of his own bonding with T'Pring started flooding back. Their awkward betrothal and bond at seven arranged by their clans, how they barely knew each other and not for any physical distance between them. From the beginning it was an ill-fated match beyond so many other complications.

_Some mine and some hers._

He knew that it could not have been easy for T'Pring in some ways, being forced to bond with someone her family regarded as an abomination. Although Spock came from a clan pedigree higher in status than her own, he could never separate himself from his humanity. It was that humanity that sickened T'Pring most of all. She had said it was because he was distant, a legend of the stars... because he chose to leave his culture and embrace the universe instead of a sterile position at the Vulcan Science Academy. He had always known even as a child that they were not to be, despite unbending tradition and duty to family telling him otherwise.

To add insult to injury, T'Pring defied tradition when she chose kal'i'fee, to challenge.

Memories swirled like the searing heat and parching red sands on the ancestral grounds. Tinkling bells had enraged him, tore at the threads of his wavering sanity. A deep resonance shivered throughout his body as an ancient jadeite gong was struck and cracked in two, unable to withstand anymore after surviving a millennia. Fever and Flame. Madness, destruction and pure wickedness. A vision of Ket-cheleb laughing and screaming in his mind. His irrational desire for T'Pring consumed him; to touch her... to rip at her ornamental tunic and take her there on the sands in ways he had never known before. To claim her as was dictated by the ancient laws and customs of his people regardless of any rational thought.

And then as the fevered flames subsided, Spock had been assaulted with unfathomable loss as he stood helpless and clutching his best friend by the neck, an ahn-wun strangling his last breath after their crazed struggle. Kirk had sacrificed himself for Spock, disregarding all logic for honor and friendship in true human fashion. Red and green blood mingled with crimson sand as Spock had stood towering over his limp battered form heaving, breathless. All desire for destruction receded, and his inner flame was quenched by combat. In that moment he only wished it was his own death that had come to pass, that the sands would rise up and swallow him for the grievous act he had committed.

_T'hy'la! I could never have found peace in your death by my hand._

His final words to T'Pring had been ash in his mouth. Revulsion replaced any vestiges of fevered desire. In time and through discipline he thought it would be possible to purge those feelings, if not the memories. For years, it was one of many motivations for him to do just that. His decision to leave Starfleet after the end of Kirk's five year mission was propelled by the need that _never again_ would he be forced to put his friends in harms way, at least not at his hands. The pain of childhood, his confused feelings of division, of being of two worlds but possessed of none; all of this he had wished to shed and become immune through the perfection of total mastery. He would be reborn in a'riv'ne, one with the All; with every breath he would exist in a state of perfect harmony within a world of discord.

For all his trials he had nearly succeeded in the demands of Kolinahr; from his long pilgrimage to his years of study in the twisting caverns of the monastery, so close he had nearly become to being an alcolyte of perfect logic. He remembered as he knelt on the sands of the Pasutra t'Tai-la, before T'Sai, reaching to accept the talisman of Total Logic. Above him towered the imposing peaks of Gol. The sun had beat into his eyes mercilessly and intense heat had seared his palms and legs but he felt nothing. _Nothing_. In those last moments before taking the proffered crystal, before being truly worthy of the title Kolinahru, he had stopped. Stunned, he knelt paralyzed by an all absorbing psychic calling, a power so incredible emanating from a being of sublime knowledge.

As Spock surrendered his thoughts to her, Master and adept both knew that he was not meant in the end to possess the trinket, nor the Total Logic it signified. V'Ger had summoned him back... back again to the stars.

After much reflection upon his return to Starfleet, it became clear to him that the only thing that had gone right all those years ago at his kun-ut kali-fee was McCoy's subterfuge and defiance of T'Pau, an action that even the Matriarch herself had forgiven despite it being counter to thousands of years of honor bound ritualized combat. In the end, Spock came back from that failed experience just as he did from Kolinahr; he returned to find exactly what he had really wanted. To live his life in the stars, to serve in Starfleet with his human brothers, to make his own path.

All these were memories he would prefer not to recount, especially not now. Spock winced slightly, the pain of memory itself strangling him like an ahn-wun around his own neck.

"Spock! Are you unwell?" Her mask suddenly gone, Saavik peered helplessly through comlink, unsure of what was happening. Scared, fierce, yet... restrained.

Warping back to reality, Spock shook of his memories with a minute shudder and looked again at the little girl onscreen in front of him. No, the _survivor_ in front of him.

"I am not unwell, Saavikaam. I merely had a brief telepathic incident. It... is under control and of no consequence. Please, continue." Spock was certain that she did not entirely buy his fib, but instead of arguing she merely began again to talk of her studies. In that he was also surprised. Usually it was not beyond her to ask a question, any and all manner of questions.

"… and today, Lady Amanda took me to the Vulcan Science Academy to see giant Caldorian eels! They were quite interesting. They had rainbow scales and were 3 meters long. I would have liked it if you were there. You would have told me about their biology and about where they are from. But Lady Amanda teaches me so many other things, Spock. I think you would find it quite _satisfactory_." Saavik purposefully used the last phrasing to snag Spock's attention.

"Indeed, Saavikaam. I see that you are acclimating more quickly to Vulcan norms than I had projected. But Saavik, are you also finding your life on Vulcan _satisfactory_? Is there anything that you require?" He said this to gauge her emotional response, knowing that she would not ask anything of him especially while he was relegated to the confines of the _Enterprise_, unless it was important.

"No, I thank you for thinking of me but I require nothing. My guardians give me so much. I never knew these things existed. It is sometimes confusing because I have so much now and sometimes I think it is not real. I still dream of Thieurrull, of leaving on the _Symmetry_ as if it… was not real. All I want is to keep studying, and someday I will be on the _Enterprise_ with you instead of you coming to me. You will see." She let a slighty crafty smile grace her features which would have typically been incongruous with the rest of her very proper and traditional appearance. Yet somehow, _it_ seemed more appropriate.

"Of your sense of will and ambition, I have no doubts Saavikaam. Keep learning and keep exploring. Do _not_ allow yourself to be stifled in this regard and you will always go far." Spock softened his features slightly. He was still in disbelief over everything he had seen and heard in just the last ten minutes. "Also, there is something that I am giving you permission to do as well. If you are very unsure of yourself, if you need me to answer questions, or help in any way, I am _always_ here. _Vokau_, _Saavikhaam_." Bowing slightly, Spock leaned a little back in his chair but maintained his gaze. "_Kwon-sum_."

Bowing deeply towards him, she inwardly clung desperately to his words. She fought not to shed a tear, to use her bio control as she had learned not to tremble; she needed to maintain her discipline despite wanting to crumple and break apart for the first time since those early days on Dantria IV. More than anything, she wanted to prove herself to him, to show him that she was strong and capable, and could trust her with such regard and promise.

What he had in effect given was a promise to not stop believing in her as she always was, as well as a promise to help if she could not help herself. She was still in awe of him, how someone she once called ri-fainusu, _stranger_, could still be here through everything.

"Itaren nash-veh odu na' kanok-vei. I only wish that you will come back when you are not on _Enterprise_, but I know that you are very responsible and it will not always be easy. When you come back, you can teach me more. " Her lip curled slightly, and she dropped her head once more.

"I know it has not been a simple task to adjust, Saavikaam. I will do what I can to return to ShiKahr, and I trust when I arrive that we will have many new lessons to explore." Wanting to distract her, he changed the subject slightly. "Did you know Saavikaam, that Sarek is learned in astrophysics and the study of the stars? Perhaps he can instruct you until I return and then we will have much to talk about indeed. Long ago, you told me how you desired to see them up close, therefore it seems logical that you should be studying them. To be in StarFleet requires learning astronavigation. Consider it a new challenge to try, if nothing else. I will look forward to talking with you via comlink, unless I can make arrangements to see you on Vulcan sooner."

"I promise I will try very hard to learn, Spock. We will have much to talk about!" Content with a new goal in mind, Saavik relaxed momentarily until she realized the inevitable. The call had to come to an end. Her face darkened slightly, but she kept her gaze steady.

"Goodnight, Savikaam. Please give regards to my parents and tell them I will attempt to reach them soon."

"Rom-halan." She raised her hand in the ta'al, the traditional salute of the Vulcan people. "Dif-tor heh smusma, Spohkh."

Raising his hand in the ta'al, Spock replied in kind. "Sochya eh dif, Saavikhaam."

Breaking the comlink to ShiKahr was one of the decidedly worst things he had ever done to her, and although he knew logically that what is, is… he mutely cursed _kaiidth_ as if it were an ancient swear oath. Although he had not spoken directly with his parents, the clues to their plans were clearly written all over Saavik, as bold as the crimson of her elaborate tunic, as clear as the clan hair clasp she wore that belonged in his great grandmother's dowry box.

But she was indeed prospering in many ways; well fed, well educated, well groomed for a change. He supposed that now he had some idea how his own mother felt, as a human who had been early on constrained by Vulcan tradition, lore, societal expectations and even biology. She had watched Spock grow up under Sarek's indomitable will. To this day, Spock never told her just how much he had wanted her to break convention and hug him, defiant as he was to fight her at the time, stubborn in his youth to prove himself. It was strange how he found himself now at odds again with his own culture. This child of whom he desired more than anything to be safe and free, might be caught in many of the same pitfalls he had carefully sidestepped by leaving for StarFleet while still a child himself. He considered how difficult it would be if after adopting Saavik and growing attached to her as an entitled daughter, how her ambitions for StarFleet service might open old wounds, some that had only tentatively healed even over many years.

_Kaiidth!_

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. The hairstyle in question is similar to the one seen worn by T'Pring as a child in TOS: _Amok Time._  
>2. T'hy'la or T'hyla is probably the most controversial word in <em>Star Trek<em> lore. It was first recorded in the novelization of _Star Trek: The Motion Picture_, and written by none other than Gene Roddenberry. In this context as in the novelization, it means brother, not lover.  
>3. <em>A'riv'ne<em> is a state of total unity between thought, matter and energy.  
>4. Pasutra t'Tai-la translates as the Plateau of Tai-la; it is a sacred place where the final ritual of Kolinahr is practiced. (Way of the Kolinahr: Vulcan; Last Unicorn Games)<br>5. _"There is no higher praise than 'satisfactory'"_ according to Surak.  
>6. Golic Translation; <em>Vokau<em>: remember, _Kwon-sum_: always, _Itaren nash-veh odu na' kanok-vei.:_ I thank you for everything. (Formal)  
>7. Sarek's earlier career as an astrophysicist before becoming the Federation Ambassador of Vulcan derives from a scene cut from the final script of TOS: Journey to Babel. (<em>Star Trek Compendium<em>, 4th edition.)  
>8. Saavik is later posted to <em>Enterprise<em> as a navigator during the events of Khan's return in 2285.  
>9. <em>Rom-khru<em> translates to "Good Evening", whereas _Rom-halan_ is equivalent to "farewell" or "good-bye".


	8. Familiar Faces

**Chapter 8: Familiar Faces**

_ShiKahr, Vulcan_

All she could do was stare mutely at the blank screen for what felt like hours, despite her keen, logical inner clock telling her it had been merely two minutes after Spock had broken the connection. Much like her reoccurring nightmares, part of her wasn't entirely certain that this deafening silence was real. But the chair and heavily carved desk seemed sturdy enough, and she could still detect a faint cinnamon smell on the wind. Sarek and Amanda were in the next room and their murmuring was faintly recognizable. Saavik was fairly certain that even her imagination wasn't that crafty to create such detail.

Down to her bones though, she knew something was wrong and Spock was not telling her anything.

"_Fvadt!" _

She could feel a sudden anger surge, an old distrust. Her Rhiannsu curse seemed suitable to the circumstance.

After living with Spock on Dantria IV for almost a year, she had seen nearly every shift in his demeanor, however minute. In her own way she had studied him probably more than he might realize. For that first year, he was her only thread to any existence she cared to remember or be part of willingly.

_Remember_. _Always_.

She could find no logical reason as to what had made him look so stricken over the comlink. The last time she had seen him like that… the last time was a painful memory through still feral eyes. She had broken her wrist while climbing a tree, one she had been _told_ was _much too high_. In disbelief that she could be hurt or that anything could be so daunting, she had defied him by running off into the woods alone; much to her chagrin, she had also inevitably proven him right in the process.

As night encroached and the air began to chill, she clung to the forest floor and wept as a light rain fell on her back. Saavik had been mystified by the occurrence of rain the first time she experienced it, joyfully opening her mouth and letting the drops fall back on her tongue. She openly showed her delight; stomping and thrusting tiny fists in the puddles. Unlike on Thieurrull, she now had an endless supply of fresh water to drink from. She no longer had to stoop over sullied pools or kill others to secure a wretched pond for her own survival.

_Saavikaam_!

Spock called out to the woods after her, but she refused to heed him. Hiding in the brush and broken twigs, tears continued to break across her ruddy cheeks. She knew he would be most displeased with her. She wondered if he would even give up and send her back on the soonest arriving transport, back to wherever she was supposed to go when it came time for him to return to the stars.

_The stars_.

Her silent companions twinkled above her as the last bit of sunset receded over the horizon and the day gave way to meet its dark counterpart.

It had been over an hour since she had gracelessly crashed through the canopy. She was hungry and afraid and her body felt numb by shock, wet and wretchedly cold. After another half hour she decided to leave her hidden burrow and face him; there was no other choice. Gingerly, she stealthily approached him, first to watch and assess him where he stood on the porch. Emerging silently out of the darkness, she whimpered with her head down in fear and humiliation. Saavik's limp wrist was bloodied and bruised, twisted at an angle that was most definitely not correct. Twigs and leaves were entwined in damp curls, a smear of brackish pitch and the remnants of drying tears marred her cheeks. She wore only one sandal, having lost its mate somewhere in the fall.

In her memory of that moment, Spock had tried to mask the same strangled expression she had seen just before in his reaction to her tattered condition.

Terror. Sadness. Empathic pain.

Spock's shields had momentarily lapsed at the sight of her in agony, filthy and sobbing. At that time, her untrained mind was able to brush the periphery of his thoughts and what she sensed made her unnervingly aware of how her naturally defiant attitude was in fact the source of such grief to someone who she had no wish to ever injure. It had been a hard lesson; to finally submit that _her_ actions could cause pain to anyone else, beyond the physical realm. To know that she perhaps was not alone in anything anymore.

Typically, Spock was well guarded mentally and she was never able to enter his privacy barrier unless he allowed it. During her life on Hellguard, she had learned to use her Psi senses unrestrained, untrained. Whereas a trained Vulcan would be taught from childhood not to ever breach another's privacy, she had learned to use her skill to sense and detect enemies and prey, and invariably, to survive. When in a high state of anxiety or shock, Saavik instinctively flexed her psychic barrier without much control. But, on this occasion, what she sensed screaming back was something altogether unexpected and nearly unbearable.

The wrist was quickly mended, but that face... she would never forget. Always.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. "Fvadt" is Rihanh (Romulan) for "Damn!"


	9. Exiled Memories

**Chapter 9: Exiled Memories**

_U.S.S. Enterprise, Spock's Quarters_

He had been staring at the closed terminal for 2 minutes and 14.47 seconds. In that time a multitude of possibilities had crossed his mind as to the details of the situation presently unfolding in ShiKahr. All of the things he had witnessed during his conversation with Saavik seemed as clear to him as the mathematical equation for warp drive. It was unlikely that he could have entirely misread the situation, but the lack of concrete data made his thoughts race as he sought solutions and endgame scenarios to a problem he perceived as imminently difficult.

In many ways, Spock supposed this should have been an expected development. It was only logical for his parents to begin making inquiries about such arrangements… eventually. His clan maintained ancient familial ties and held important ancestral lands since before the time of Surak. T'Pau was not merely a revered Matriarch, but an Elder from Spock's direct line. His House was regarded highly in society and considered important players on their home world as well as in service to the Federation. T'Pau's own snubbing of the Federation in her refusal to sit on their High Council was proof of her status, as well as a testament to her own defiance of _outworlder_ influences.

In respect of all these facts, it was only a matter of due course that there would be an expectation of his family to abide by established custom, despite their record for being known to bend the rules. Legally adopted, Saavik was fully entitled to the benefits of being an honored daughter in an elite clan. Unbeknownst to her, there were significant drawbacks to such status as well.

In Pre-Reform society, a child was prized as much for their ability to carry the line as they were for being a potential bargaining chip. Alliances were forged through the oaths of clan elders to uphold bond agreements. Territories were banded together through carefully organized clan intermarriages and secured by the promise of future generations. Wars were fought fiercely over the death of a promised child; some children were even kidnapped or killed by rivals. Nothing was more important than the safety and wellbeing of eligible offspring to carry on a family's integrity and station, nor was there greater privilege in the act of educating and grooming said child to serve, uphold and protect the needs of clan honor.

Before the Time of the Awakening, a strict societal code had been crucial especially when one considered the total madness and unpredictability of a Vulcan's biological drives in a time without logic, when his people had all been _suvel nahan fa'Surak_. There were reasons to uphold what some may view in the present as arcane tradition. Without strict order and structured discipline, if passions were allowed to thrive and go unchecked, civilization would surely fall. It had almost happened before Surak, and it could happen again.

In defying tradition and the carefully laid plans of his own father, Spock himself had at one time been considered more or less _vre'kasht_, an outcast. The eighteen year silence that Sarek upheld in response to his decision to enter Starfleet was the ultimate expression of his father's disapproval. From the moment his fall from status had been declared, Spock had never expected his father to back down. Sarek was not one to change his mind, no matter the crusade his mother may have waged in her son's absence. Spock accepted the decision as absolute and logic dictated no other response; no attempt on his behalf would change the situation. He knew Sarek to be nothing if not resolute when a decision was made and a verdict rendered.

Such sentences had had precedent and been swiftly carried out before. Spock clearly remembered the day that Sybok had been expelled from their household. Ordered to leave, he was escorted off world and told to never return on pain of death. Such sentences on Vulcan were unheard of except in the most extreme of circumstances. Sybok's possession of sacred knowledge which he had acquired by means of disrupting the sanctity and silence of the Hall of Ancient Thought had created a need for such punishment. Stripped of all ties and entitlements and named as ktorr skann, the clan was ordered to _forget_ him entirely, never to seek him out or speak of him again. All records of Sybok's life, his very existence, were purged from official archives. All family holos were destroyed which bore his image and his remaining clothing and personal effects burned. Sarek had even had his room leveled and turned into a sand garden. Permanently exiled in body and spirit, Spock had lost a brother and it was his duty as entitled heir to abide by the judgment and mandate of his elders.

_In the family all is silence._

He had never known the true depth of meaning the traditional phrase had carried until the day that Sybok was erased.

But now was not the time to think of such things. Sybok was gone, perhaps even dead: a specter of the past. The current issue he faced with Saavik on the other hand was quite present.

Glancing over at his ka'athyra, Spock rose from the terminal and reached for the aged lytherette he had carried with him since childhood. A gift from Sarek, he had been instructed in its use and care by his father much to the joy of his mother. It had been a source of inspiration in his youth, as well as a preferred tool for disciplining his mind and organizing his thoughts. It served as a tether to his culture, a reminder of some of his more agreeable memories of Sarek. It had been one of the few personal effects he had taken with him in his exile from Vulcan. Long ago, the ka'athyra soothed him through the ordeals of adjusting to life on Earth; it had been difficult to say the least when he had taken leave of his parents, unknowing if he would ever set foot in their home, or on their planet, again. The rugged lyre remained when all else had been lost; it dispelled his sense of discord while he learned at the Academy and all the years since survived every long voyage during his service aboard the _Enterprise_.

Adeptly he wove his arm around the sturdy wooden frame, adjusting a tension ring. Forming the ta'al, he placed lithe fingers to familiar strings. With years of practiced skill, he began playing it softly while continuing to reflect. The ordered notes and rhythms rushed forth from his fingertips, filling the dim cabin with its haunting ethereal melody. With each progression, Spock's musings of Sybok separated further from his thoughts; with every pluck and drag of the strings, he focused on banishing the ghost of his half-brother from memory.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. References to Sybok's history are from the novelization of _Star Trek V: The Final Frontier_.  
>2."In the family all is silence" was first said by Spock (Selek) to his younger self in TAS: <em>Yesteryear<em>.  
>3.T'Pau's exact relationship to Spock is never fully explained, but as Matriarch of his clan it could be assumed that she is possibly his grandmother or some other very close relative.<p> 


	10. The Cold Shoulder

**Chapter 10: The Cold Shoulder**

The ethereal notes had escaped beyond Spock's cabin, wafting through the long corridor of deck five. It was "night" on the _Enterprise_, and the lights were dimmed to better simulate an earthlike 24 hour schedule. Most of Alpha shift was by now relaxing or getting ready for bed while the night shift took over operations. The _Enterprise_ herself was softly humming as she flashed through space at low warp; the ship and crew settled down for a quiet evening.

"You're not going to chicken out now are you?" Kirk walked one step ahead of McCoy as they made their way down the familiar deck, their boots clicking quietly across the metal plates.

McCoy bristled slightly and let out a harrumph.

"Cluck, cluck, no. I suppose at this point it's my _duty_ as an officer if not that of a gentlemen. And, perhaps it would be better if I served up my portion of crow and ate it before I can really taste it."

Both of them stopped together in front of the familiar doorway of Spock's quarters in mutual hesitation. They had of course been in there hundreds of times, but with an expected 110°F plus internal temperature, with practiced care they took a moment to prepare.

_Fanning the flames of hell, indeed_, Kirk mused to himself.

"Let's just get this over with, Jim. That bourbon is making me sleepy, and considering how warm you _know_ it's gonna be in there, I don't want to risk dozin' off and closing my eyes." McCoy squinted one eye and feigned a yawn for emphasis while rocking back on his heels.

"You can sleep when you're dead, Bones. You might as well apologize now before you procrastinate yourself out of a good honest exorcism. Anyways, I don't think Spock could be _that _miffed. I can hear him playing his harp. A movement by Salet of T'lingShar, if I'm not mistaken."

"You would know that, wouldn't you?" McCoy shook his head and pursed his lips together in a sour scowl. "Yeah, I'm sure he's a pickin' and a grinnin'. Damn it, how did you convince me to do this in the first place? "

"Considering you convinced yourself _before_ dragging me along, I'm surprised you'd even be arguing at this point. Well, we've made it this far; we might as well finish the mission. Doctor, if you will do the honors, please." Kirk stepped aside and with exaggeration motioned towards the call button.

Glaring, McCoy bit his lower lip as he pressed the illuminated switch on Spock's cabin, signaling their presence. The soft straining reverberations of the harp abruptly ceased and for a moment a tense silence hung in the air. As the door whooshed open, Spock stepped forward. He stood in the doorway illuminated by a reddish glow from within, barring the path of his visitors from immediate entrance. His features unreadable, Spock let the silence persist for a few moments before addressing them.

"Admiral. Doctor." Each syllable was spoken with a cold and sterile lack of inflection.

_Don't try to tell me he isn't pissed off now! _

McCoy didn't have to say it for Kirk to read his all too expressive message loud and clear. If there was one thing Spock could do in an instant, it was put down a sheet of ice in the heat of summer you could skate on without moving a muscle. Admittedly, Kirk thought it was a pretty great party trick except when it was directed at him personally; then it was just downright terrifying. Not willing to be cowed, Kirk met his friend's frosty gaze before uttering acknowledgment.

"Spock."

Kirk bowed his head somewhat to show a polite deference but kept his eyes steady. McCoy picked up the hint and followed suit with the same behavior.

Over many years and experiences with his first officer, Kirk had learned that subtle motions tended to make a better impact in everyday interactions. Whereas humans relied on more overt gestures, Vulcans were more apt to cooperate if you showed a little control and, well, logic in your bearing. In the unusual case of dealing with an irritated Vulcan, it was important, _imperative_ even, that you didn't back down or make any sudden wild movements. For all their control and peaceful overtures, Kirk knew better. This was a species born millennia ago to war and dynastic rule; to think a Vulcan couldn't hurt you was just stupid. He had a chest scar and evidence of prior cracked ribs to prove it. And, while he didn't believe their little chat would come to blows and he most certainly trusted his best friend with his life, he had learned not to test Spock after a certain point. You never know, he might decide to try out his Vulcan Death Grip on you.

It had also been some time since Spock had treated either of his friends to his equivalent of the 'cold shoulder', and Kirk was certain there was far more to the situation than just a few crass words. Shivering internally, it got him thinking back to the V'Ger incident only a few years in the past. Spock had appeared out of the void with his usual good timing, unannounced. He had not even signaled his identity at arrival, only requested permission to board; it was quite a shock to everyone as he exited the turbolift and stood on the bridge for the first time since the five year mission had ended. The vacancy and distance he had exhibited toward his fellow crewmates, many of them who at one time considered him as the closest of friends, made it clear that Spock was utterly an island to himself. Kirk became in those moments aware that everything he had known about his best friend was merely a sheen on the surface; what had only seemed like a lingering cold for years had somehow been replaced with the subzero vacuum of undifferentiating, impartial logic. No familiarity, no closeness, no sign that Spock even registered any of them in his reality. It had devastated Kirk like a silent gravitic mine.

McCoy thought about darker memories to himself much as Kirk did, and gulped slightly while trying not to fidget._ Well, here's hoping there aren't any lirpas or spiteful fiancés hidden in his coat closet_.

Spock remained frigid and seemingly indifferent to their presence. His dark, acute stare made it clear as dilithium that he was making a critical assessment of both men, yet he gave no indication of his findings so far. He hadn't budged a muscle except to speak and flick his glare from one man to the next. He most definitely did not look like he was in the mood for a heart-to-heart over tea and crumpets.

McCoy could imagine his veins turning to ice water and shuddered._ Damn Kolinahru parlor tricks! If he's just screwing with us, I'm going to reconsider this whole apology business._ He kept his head bowed despite his internal diatribe. If anyone hated standing on ceremony, it was him.

Taking the plunge for both of them, Kirk remained steadfast as he stated their business.

"We don't want to take up to much of your time, we know it's late but… we were hoping to talk with you for a minute about what happened earlier. If you don't, we under-"

"You may enter, but I ask that you please be brief."

Cut off midsentence. Kirk knew that he could assume there would be no sugar cubes to go with this tea party, either. Moving aside to allow his guests to pass, Spock remained inexpressive as he ushered Kirk and McCoy inside. As expected it was unbearably hot, and it appeared the firepot had been recently stoked. The lute was hung back in its nook. Nothing was out of order; as usual, it was almost _too_ neat, if that were even possible. Compared to humans, Vulcans always seemed near obsessive in their fastidiousness. Kirk observed that Spock didn't offer them a seat like he usually did, or turn down the temperature to something more tolerable to human comfort. He almost regretted winning the staring match and was tempted to call his own bluff, but it was too late as he heard the automatic door _swish_ behind them. There was no use delaying the inevitable, and in his own spiteful way he was looking forward to one hell of a good act of contrition on behalf of McCoy.

_If I can take on few Klingons, you'd think with a team we could take on one peeved Vulcan. Easier said than done. Damn, in this heat I'd think even a Vulcan popsicle should melt a little._

Hands to his side, eyes straight and confident, Kirk began what they had set out to do.

_"_It's obvious you aren't too keen on our social call, so I won't hold you in suspense. We _both_ want to apologize for earlier in Sick Bay. It was rude and a breach of trust for us to make jokes about something that is a sensitive subject and culturally taboo. We should not have been so callous. Even after so many years together, it's apparent we can still put our foot in our own mouths, so to speak."

"Apologies are illogical."

_I knew he was going to drag his infernal logic into this!_ McCoy raised a brow at Kirk with a telling 'I told you so' expression.

His tone had remained cool and remote but Spock placed his hands neatly behind his back, a gesture construing that he may not have been _enthusiastic _to discuss recent events _(_if one could even use the word) but that he was at least receptive to listening.

"That may well be true, but nonetheless we felt it was necessary. Bones?" Turning to the Doctor, Kirk made it clear it was time for him to say his peace.

Shifting slightly and having already begun to sweat, McCoy started his confession in the only way he knew how; a rebuke.

"Sometimes I forget that even with that thick hide of yours, you're still susceptible to a splinter now and again. I shouldn't have heckled you, especially when I know you've got your own cross to bear. Family is important, and nothing is worse than when you have to watch from a distance with your hands tied. You don't need me to play Judas and crucify you… I'm sorry, Spock."

Spock's features softened slightly as his friend continued his guilt-ridden confession. While it was true that McCoy _had _irked him, as much as he did not want to admit it, the Doctor's customary taunting wasn't enough of an offense to warrant such a gushing admission of fault. He knew the effect his cold demeanor could have on his friends, and after years of living with humans in close quarters, was also completely aware that such demonstrations of aloofness could be punishment enough.

"As I said, apologies are illogical. To use one of your own colloquialisms, 'sticks and stones.' I understand your intent, and although I find it unnecessary, I will accept it." Relaxing his posture, Spock moved his hands to clasp them in front of himself. It was another familiar motion that Kirk knew to mean acquiescence or understanding. After a brief silence, Spock moved to the wall and turned down the thermostat to a more tolerable 90°F, also his way of showing one concession in exchange for theirs.

It was a polite social dance, carefully orchestrated.

As the tension started to diminish, Kirk decided to take a chance. He knew it was playing with fire but he wanted to understand what was _really_ eating at his best friend. Once McCoy had compared Spock to an Aldebaran Shellmouth for his ability to keep his private affairs securely under guard. It was a near impossible struggle to make the Vulcan tell you something if he didn't want to. With that in mind, Kirk hoped he wasn't digging himself and McCoy into a deeper grave by prying.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Salet of T'lingShar was a famed Vulcan musician-composer especially known for playing the ka'athyra. Spock admits to Kirk while playing chess that Salet was a personal hero to him in his youth according to _Dwellers in the Crucible_ by Margaret Wander Bonnano.  
>2. <em>"But there's no such thing as a Vulcan death grip!"<em> said Christine Chapel. _"Ah, but the **Romulans** don't know that!" replied Kirk. _From TOS_: The Enterprise Incident. _  
>3. The V'Ger incident is depicted in <em>Star Trek: The Motion Picture<em>.  
>4. A gravitic mine is mentioned in <em>Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan<em> as being what strikes the _Kobayashi Maru _during simulation.


	11. Clearing The Air

**Chapter 11: Clearing The Air**

"Well, I'm glad that we could clear the air. Bones here told me he was actually quite worried on your behalf." Kirk smiled and winked at McCoy, breaking the silence once more.

"Oh, don't put words in my mouth. I've got enough of my own colorful verses without you mixing in your sentiment." McCoy squinted at Kirk in jest before continuing. "I really meant what I said though, Spock."

"Your _sentiment_ is acknowledged. Let us not speak any more of it. The event is of no consequence." Spock remained as if he were made of granite, but was noticeably more amiable in his reply to McCoy.

"All right, you've got a deal." Still feeling chastised, McCoy smiled wanly.

"Well, that's really all we came to say, so unless there is any other business I suppose we will just say our goodnights." Kirk motioned back towards the door, with McCoy a step in front of him.

Bowing slightly, Spock walked with them the few paces as they made their way to exit. As McCoy stepped out, Kirk hung back and turned to look at Spock.

"I'll catch up in a minute, Doctor. You go on ahead." Kirk playfully waved his hand out towards the empty corridor, subtly telling him to be on his way.

McCoy nodded before saying goodnight to Spock and began the short walk towards his own quarters. He knew Kirk had said that last bit only as distraction and didn't expect to see him again until morning. He could tell something unseen was nagging at both of his friends, and figured the best way to get the truth out was to let Kirk work his charm alone without the aid of his irascible wit.

The door _swooshed_ shut. Kirk stood pensively at the threshold, arms crossed, assessing with his gaze directed at Spock.

"Would you care to sit, Admiral?" Spock motioned towards an empty chair he usually reserved for just such visits. It was clear he did so this time out of politeness and not because he wanted company.

_Not, Jim. 'Admiral'_. Kirk could tell Spock was attempting to keep the situation impersonal and all business. _There's definitely something he's keeping to himself, but what?_

Thanking him and taking the offered seat, Kirk settled himself and waited for his friend to do the same. Spock sat across from him rigidly; his body language may have been perfectly composed and 'All-Vulcan' to anyone who didn't know him, but Kirk could see all the signs that something had deeply disturbed him. Rigid whitened knuckles were interlaced tightly in his clasped hands which spoke volumes of the inner turmoil that simmered beneath the otherwise stoic appearance.

A memory flashed in Kirk's mind. It seemed so long ago: their disastrous visit to Platonius. McCoy had been held captive and forced to watch his friends suffer as Parmen used telekinesis to bend Kirk and Spock with his twisted will. He had thrown them around like marionettes to dance and sing; worst of all was how he violated Spock's mind and forced him to laugh and cry for the tyrant's own sick pleasure. When Parmen finally tired and relented, Kirk had watched as Spock waged a silent internal battle to regain his control after the embarrassment of being savagely divested from his free will. Motionless, Spock had stood staring forward grasping a clay vessel shattered in his hand. As blood coursed down his fingers and through the porous cracks of the vase, the palpable anger and hate slowly dissipated. He had fought in silence to regain himself, desperate to recapture the logic that would eventually save them all. It was not a recollection any of them chose to revisit often.

Kirk sighed heavily before he spoke, his confidence waning as he betrayed his own apprehension.

"I don't want to put you on the spot, but it seems like there is something underlying our usual witty banter. I know McCoy can be damned irritating at times, but it usually takes a lot more than one of his barbs to hook you. Are you unwell? What's wrong?" Kirk leaned forward in his chair, clearly showing his concern.

Spock's dark eyes flashed and narrowed ever so slightly as his jaw noticeably clenched. He stared at Kirk for a few intense seconds before letting out the smallest of audible sighs and relaxing his compressed fingers. It was plain as day that he didn't want to discuss what was on his mind, but he knew that Kirk had asked out of genuine worry and friendship. He also acknowledged that his human friend was as stubborn as himself and one way or another, he would get the information he wanted. But, if he _could_ trust anyone it was most decidedly James Kirk. Lowering his eyes, Spock took his time before speaking.

"It appears that I will be unable to dissuade you from concerning yourself with my wellbeing. I assure you, I myself am quite well and in good health. Suffice it to say, my call home has left me admittedly puzzled and… unsettled."

He knew if he didn't keep pushing the issue now, he'd never get the whole truth so Kirk plowed forward.

"I know it hasn't been easy adjusting to leaving Saavik behind, but I'm sure your parents are keeping her busy and well guarded. I hope nothing bad has happened to her; she _is_ ok, isn't she?"

"She is well. Her studies are progressing satisfactorily and her outward appearance shows rapid growth. Socially, she also seems to be adjusting quickly to her new settings as well as into Vulcan society. My mother and father have been diligent in her tutelage, perhaps more so in some areas than I would have deemed appropriate considering how little time has passed since her arrival. My concern is not for her current physical state of being, but for her future."

"You'll have to break things down for me, I don't quite understand. You say she is well but it seems you perceive some sort of imminent threat. What happened?"

Rising from his seat, Spock took a step forward and turned away to face the opposite wall. He put his hands behind his back, and a knuckle cracked as he flexed his fingers in place. Composing himself again, he replied somewhat hesitantly.

"I would prefer to not speak of this Jim, but I know that you will not take no as an answer."

"You know I'm not very good at leaving things as _unknowns_, but if it's a matter of family privacy, I won't push the issue. If you want to talk about it, though… my door is always open."

Turning to face Kirk, Spock let his shoulders fall in resignation, his tension giving way slightly.

"As a human, typically I would not _ever_ discuss this issue with you. But, it is an undeniable truth that you have been a party to the outcome of such things. It is a tradition so outside the realm of your cultural understanding as much as it is so awfully a practice deeply enmeshed in mine. It is also a thing that I have known would be a complication as soon as I decided to relinquish guardianship. I had thought it would not come to pass so quickly, at least not in my absence."

Kirk shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but remained seated. He carefully dissected what Spock had just cryptically told him, contemplating the deeper meaning behind each word. Over the years, he had learned his share of Vulcan state secrets. There was only one thing in particular that made sense, one tradition that he knew of at least that could cause his friend to be so possessed with anxiety.

"Is she… married?"

It took effort for Kirk to squeak out the last word. Admittedly even he found it challenging to wrap his head around the complexities and mysteries of Vulcan bonding practices. It was a topic that was rarely discussed, only trumped by pon farr in terms of forbidden subjects. The practice of marrying children was also completely against the grain in terms of his human-centric morality. Kirk had thought at one time that he had _seen it all_ in his galactic travels; in many ways, the bombshell that Spock had dropped on him years ago in regards to T'Pring had stunned him most of all. He still didn't fully understand it and part of him wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Spock raised a brow, conceding to Kirk's correct evaluation. He frowned faintly before responding.

"Married, no. But bonded, most likely. I have not been granted enough source data to know the exact truth, but based on my empirical study of her during our conversation I would find it highly probable that she has or will very soon be… bonded."

"It seems like a decision too important to not have been told about it. How can you be certain based on a fifteen minute chat? Did she say anything about it?" Perplexed, Kirk got up from his seat so he could stand eye to eye with Spock. His expression was clear that the puzzlement was mutual.

"There were certain tacit clues that could not be easily dismissed. As an adult of her species, I am fully aware of the nuances of bonding in my culture. I could not readily ignore any of these outward displays as _happenstance_." His frown creased downward a fraction, his displeasure noticeable in the last word. "My conclusions are entirely logical, although a clear answer has not been rendered in words."

"Can you be more specific? I'm admittedly at a loss to comprehend." Kirk thought momentarily of his earlier conversation with McCoy about parenthood and its associated woes. _Well, damn if he wasn't right about one thing today. I'm certainly stumped._

At this point, Spock was noticeably more anxious. He remained immobile and glued to his position, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to his inner confliction. His voice was no longer steady as he explained his reasoning. "Her studies in etiquette and her style of dress were explainable. She has been in the care of my mother and it seems natural that she would go to great lengths to foster proper conventions with haste. Vulcans consider it of great importance to show evidence of proper grooming. Our society also has many behavioral expectations." He paused and his eyes again narrowed.

"But, her sudden extreme changes in composure and obedience, her use of Traditional Golic intonation and most interestingly her _hair_, were by far the most telling clues of all."

"Seriously, her hair?"

"Yes. Seriously."

Kirk stared incredulously, wondering at the turn of events that transpired to get him caught in such an unexpected and awkward conversation. Spock was being uncharacteristically straightforward which was odd in itself, and he was still _completely_ lost in the details. He knew Spock had the ability to extrapolate data more efficiently and concisely than probably anyone in the Federation, but… _hair was the big clue?_ Part of him almost didn't want to know why. He'd be willing to let one mystery slide past him; _this all just seems much too…._ He caught himself on the last word as he thought it. _Alien_.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Kirk's memory of the Platonians is a reference to TOS: _Plato's Stepchildren_.  
>2. Traditional Golic Vulcan is also known as High Vulcan, an archaic variant spoken before and by Surak. It is usually only spoken in formal and traditional practices. Modern Golic Vulcan is the common planet wide vernacular.<p> 


	12. Immolation

**Chapter 12: Immolation**

_ShiKahr, Vulcan_

Saavik imagined that the walls of Sarek's study were closing in around her like a vise; she felt confused, angry, and stifled in her containment. Momentarily, she thought about the eels and wondered if they ever felt so trapped. She needed to get out, to escape far away from imposed civility and structure; out into wildness. Although she had not lived on Vulcan long, she understood the savage desert; the Forge called to her and she felt one with it. The desolation and harshness of its rugged features were familiar and something she understood better than anything. Hellguard had disillusioned her to danger and entropy and those awful memories stood in stark contrast to the relative easiness of her new found life.

Stealthily, she eased out of Sarek's ancient chair, hesitating only to caress her fingers briefly over its delicate inlay. The heat of her hands released the fragrant scent of the sher'khah teak faintly into the air. Tiny fingertips traced the fine calligraphic script denoting the clan, the deeply carved lines gracefully embellishing the dark headboard that was centuries old.

Slipping away soundlessly, Saavik tiptoed out to the threshold of the doorway, only stopping to tilt her head and listen before cautiously advancing through the darkened passageway. Sarek and Amanda were still awake, but both were tucked away in the far wing of the villa containing the library. They had left their ward alone to talk with Spock over the comlink, assuming that if there was need of them, they would be called. Spock would contact his parents separately if there was any reason to.

Over the many years that he had been in Starfleet, it had become normal for Spock to not maintain contact with any sort of frequency. It was a habit not easily broken after eighteen years of total separation between father and son. Amanda had circumvented the wishes of her husband despite his demands and expectations that she honor his judgment without question. The forced silence had been the straw that nearly broke their marriage apart. It was eventually an unspoken compromise between them that she would continue to contact Spock through letters and care packages, knowing full well that there was no amount of pleading on her part that would convince her son to break the mandate of his father; Spock would not come home. The silence had persisted in its own way past their unification onboard the _Enterprise_ and into the present.

Saavik of course thought nothing of this as she slinked through the living room and darted soundlessly through a glass paneled door, out into the peacefulness of Amanda's garden. Of all the many rooms and quiet alcoves in the villa, the garden had become Saavik's favorite refuge. She often slipped away when unsupervised to spend time there alone. It was full of many strange and exotic plants, from Vulcan, Terra and many numerous distant worlds which the Ambassador and his wife had visited over the years. Some of the specimens had been carefully transported across thousands of light years and at great expense.

In his devotion, Sarek had gone to great lengths to ensure that Amanda had a 'piece of Earth' to comfort her when she first made the transition to living on Vulcan so many years before. He had spent a fortune to ship Terran soil, as well as commissioning a variety of special genetically modified roses, knowing that the delicate yellow blooms were his young wife's favorite. Amanda had considered the gesture to be a sign of her husband's great _love_, but Sarek had adamantly denied such romanticism as flawed. In his explanation it was only logical and proper for his human wife to have such things to make her life more comfortable and, he later admitted, he had found the flowers to be aesthetically pleasing despite their alien appearance.

Meandering past the ordered rows of yellow blossoms, Saavik stopped and ducked underneath the shady vines of an overgrown hirat plant, plucking a few of the tender grape like pods and rolling them between her fingers before popping them into her mouth. The taste was slightly sweet and akin to melon in flavor. She savored the pods as they crunched and gushed juice down her chin when she bit into the succulent fruit.

Unhindered by her long tunic, she crept deeper towards the center of the great plant. She paid no attention as her hair tangled and snagged on the vines, ruining the ordered plaits. Having delved into the dark center of the hirat, she nestled into her cozy burrow. It was a place she had sought out many times since her arrival two months before, a 'secret' place not easily accessible to adults.

It had also been a place she had come across on her first days on T'Khasi after arriving to D'H'riset, one of many new discoveries.

She remembered the overwhelmingly long journey from Dantria IV via public transport and the hurried departure out of the spaceport before jumping aboard another shuttle to a surface terminal. Spock had stopped only briefly to take her to an observation deck to look out at the planet below. She had not wanted the moment to end so soon and could never forget the spectacle of seeing Vulcan for the first time, how it had glowed intensely against the velvet backdrop of space and glistening stars; Saavik could not help herself but feel awed as she scrunched her face as close as possible against the transparent aluminum window. It had seemed most unreal, even with all the stories and lectures that Spock had prepared her with.

When they had finally made planetfall, she remembered being filled with excitement and anxiety in meeting Spock's parents, especially after having met Sarek already on Thireurrull and aboard the _Symmetry_; she had been most wary of him during the first few days, unconvinced that she was truly welcome in his home.

Finally, they had arrived at the villa after a short trip in a rented aircar and made their way through the imposing stone gates into the shade of the front courtyard. Greeted by Sarek and Amanda, everyone had shared in the formal offering and imbibement of water when first entering the family home as was customary. Spock had explained to her on the shuttle that to offer water was to show not only kindness and friendship, but honor to guests and family alike. Such offerings were typical upon entering someone's home and it was a custom from the ancient days. This act was meant to distinguish a stranger or even enemy from that of guest-friend. While this gesture would not have been offered in dishonesty, Saavik had still felt awkward and not completely certain during the entire affair.

After the brief ritual exchange, the family had finished together with a light snack of savas and theris-masu, and then proceeded with the shuffling of duffel bags into guest rooms and the chaos of unpacking. Saavik reflected on how shocked she had been when entering her new room, how it was so unlike the small utilitarian space she had inhabited on Dantria IV.

In preparation, Amanda had made sure to buy new furniture and color coordinated sheets, towels and window dressings. There was a bookshelf to display Saavik's collection of rocks and leaves from Dantria, an assortment of puzzles and games, new books and study materials. Amanda had even prepared a small wardrobe of new clothes, knowing that Saavik carried with her only the most basic of such things. Saavik had never owned much of anything or experienced any kind of luxury before, and so had possessed no expectations upon her arrival. When she had assessed everything in her room that first time, she knew that it was more permanent than any place she had known in her life before and it had excited as well as terrified her. In many ways, the attention to her wellbeing had made her nervous and after unpacking her small duffel and hastily storing her meager effects, she had wanted nothing but to find a place to make sense of everything.

It was in the garden that Saavik recollected having first found such a place of safety and escape from confusion in her new home. In knowing her as well as he did, Spock had sensed her underlying apprehension and brought her there soon after unpacking. From the first moment she stepped out into its seclusion and shade, she felt welcome. She was titillated by the unfamiliar smells of the soil and varieties of ripening fruits never seen before and most of all by the beauty of myriad vibrant colors of a hundred different species. Dantria IV had been nothing like Vulcan and Saavik had not desired to leave the cottage or the serenity of the forest, albeit knowing that their time there would ultimately come to an end. During their long shuttle voyage to T'Khasi she had longed for nothing but to return to the pine trees and the meadows full of wildflowers; even the annoying stupid boys who had lived on the next homestead would have been welcome company. In leaving Dantria IV she had come to understand the pain of being away from _home_, and giving up Dantria willingly had taken every ounce of trust and courage she could muster.

In that short week before Spock had left to return to the _Enterprise_, he had walked with her through the garden daily. He taught her about the many numerous plant specimens, and told her of their scientific names and uses. He carefully explained the physics of the water as it cascaded from the courtyard fountain, the taxonomy of the nearby wildlife in the Sas-a-Shar desert, of volcanic geologic formations and even details of the chemical makeup of the soil.

To some it may have seemed cold of him to constantly relate to her in a mode of teaching, but for Saavik, knowledge was power and in it lied certainty in an otherwise tenuous existence. Saavik had learned to find solace in truth and facts, and Spock seemed to have a limitless amount of information in all realms of learning and most willingly offered it openly to her curious mind. In the two months since he had left, Saavik had continued to study eagerly, usually while secreted away in the vines of the hirat, working to commit as much of what he had told her to heart as well as learning more to tell him about upon his return.

As she reflected on these early memories, she could not separate herself from her current state of unrest and it angered her to feel so lost, so unknowing of whatever the truth of this current matter might be. She felt she had no one to talk to, no one to instruct her as to what was reality or fantasy.

_Is he disappointed in me? Did I do something wrong? _

She had held back her emotions before retreating into the sanctity of her secret alcove. In the solitude of her vined hideaway she let her feelings take control, allowing herself to weep unrestrained. Her chest heaved as she buried her head in her arms; hushed sobs escaped and her body shook with the weight of her sorrow. Saavik's brow furrowed as salty tears ran down her cheeks, drying quickly in the heat of the desert air. She hated herself for losing control in this way, for showing weakness. All her life she had been one shred away from death and such weakness was untenable, utterly unacceptable for survival itself.

In sudden anger, she grasped a nearby vine that grazed her shoulder, ripping it from its leafy stalk and throwing it to the sand. It was a terrible waste and most disrespectful towards a living thing in regards to Surak's teachings, but her rage did not permit her to care. Clenching her fists in the warm dusty sand, she picked up a handful and sent the grains flying as she cursed herself for being so disgraceful, for being a pathetic half Romulan cast-a-way undeserving of such things as family or protection. She momentarily wished that she had died on in the wastes of Thieurrull, if only to spare her from the thought of dishonoring herself before her cherished guardians.

_No real Vulcan could ever be so wretched. I am kre'nath, a bastard unworthy of such entitlement._

Saavik tore at her braids, unravelling them, feeling weighed down by her refined accoutrements.

_These appearances are only a lie._

In her rabid fit, Saavik ripped at the ancient ruby hair pin the Lady Amanda had so carefully situated against her now ruined braids and felt the sting of its clasp as it cut deeply into her fleshy palm. She did not cry out as she held it tight and embraced the biting pain as it kindled the fire of her aggression. Dark blood welled up from her clenched fist and flowed down her wrist. Gritting her eyes closed, she let out a muted curse as the blood continued to drip and pool in the soft sand. Deep olive stains enmeshed into the fabric of her tunic but she was unaware of anything except her own ire. She let her inner fire burn as she had not done in a long time.

"Saavik, honey? Are you out here or is it just that pesky valit mole munching on my plomeek bulbs again?"

During her furious outburst, Saavik had completely forgotten how long she had been entangled in the vines of her secret camp. Amanda's voice broke through her tempestuousness, bringing her senses beyond the flame and painfully, back to reality. Sniffling, she wiped a tear from her eye and felt embarrassed. She could barely summon the will to face her, but she knew it was inescapable. She fought against not being entirely certain that she could trust anyone, even Amanda. She still felt raw and her temper had only served to fuel her confusion. She thought of how she had let herself lose control and been defeated in disregard of c'thia. Saavik bowed her head, eyes closed in regret. With a heavy sigh and the rustling of leaves, she emerged beyond the haven of her hiding place.

"I am here, Lady." She shuffled a step closer before stopping but remained partially hidden in the shadows.

Stepping towards the sound of a familiar and troubled voice in the dim light of the evening, Amanda immediately could see something was deeply wrong. Saavik was in a state of near ruin.

"Saavikaam…"

Amanda's voice was soft and plaintive, not angry. She was aware that the child had a history of violent outbursts, and Spock had warned her and Sarek before he left to be watchful of such behavior. Since Saavik's arrival to Vulcan, this by far looked to be the worst fit she had witnessed yet.

Rushing to the distraught and sullied form, Amanda did not allow behavioral code to stop her from falling to her knees and putting her arms around the disturbed wild child that had just materialized before her. She held her tightly in her loving embrace, cradling her to her body as close as possible. Saavik stiffened at first before allowing herself to go limp and cry the last of her repressed tears. A bloodied fist unfurled as she dropped the soiled ruby hair pin in the sand beside them.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Yellow roses are mentioned as being Amanda's favorite in the novel _Demons_ by J.M. Dillard.  
>2. D'H'riset is the name of Sarek and Amanda's villa in the outskirts of ShiKahr. (Orion Press Lexicon)<br>3. Theris-masu is a kind of slightly bitter spiced herbal tea. Savas is simply a generic word for fruit.  
>4."Kre'nath" is a term from A.C. Crispin's <em>Yesterday's Son<em>. Much like Zar, Saavik misunderstands the double meaning of this seemingly inflammatory Vulcan word.


	13. Sublimation

**Chapter 13: Sublimation**

Saavik wrapped her arms around Amanda, knowing then that it had been wrong of her to have been so mistrustful. Amanda projected a soothing, calm state of mind which reverberated through their embrace; Saavik felt it resonate in her thoughts with her telepathic touch. Her anger faded away as she sensed Amanda's genuine concern… and love? Love was still a foreign notion to her. She understood rage, sadness and fear much better. Concern and affection, and most of all shame were still difficult concepts to understand.

After many years of living with touch telepaths, Amanda had learned why it was important to hold back emotionally and remain semi-detached. She could never forget the heartache that she endured when Spock was growing up and developing his own telepathic abilities. Even as a toddler, he would at times recoil at her touch, his sensitive untrained mind reeling back at the strength of his mother's well intentioned emotions. By the age of four it was necessary that he not be touched_ at all _unless it was vital. There were even times that Amanda felt a bit of jealousy towards the family sehlat I-Chaya because Spock would easily cuddle and roughhouse with the giant wooly beast, but could not be held by his own mother. She tried not to be bitter, especially in the beginning as she dealt with Spock's seeming indifference to her human desire for tactile affection.

As always, logic prevailed in the form of her husband and Amanda knew she had to step aside. Spock would not develop as a normal Vulcan or learn to shield his thoughts with her interference. She respected the demands of her son's culture, but she didn't have to like it; she had cried many nights throughout his youth as she longed to hold him like she would have a human son, to hear him admit even once that he felt any attachment or emotional regard for her.

With the burning memory of past regret to fuel her, Amanda channeled the hurt of forty years into love and acceptance as she held Saavik in her arms, until the tears subsided and finally stopped. Amanda separated herself as she knew she must although her heart cried out to hold on to the child for as long as possible, for just one minute more.

"Saavik, what happened?" Still kneeling, Amanda brushed away the last tear softly with her fingertip as she stared deeply into sorrowful eyes. "What's wrong?"

Looking away, Saavik remained mute for a few moments, unsure of what to say.

"I was… confused. And then, I.. I, ran into the hirat but not away from my anger. I tried to remember c'thia, but I could not stop. And…now I am a disappointment to everyone."

Amanda gracefully stood up, motioning for Saavik to follow her to a nearby stone bench. They seated themselves together side by side, the silence punctuated only by the sound of water tinkling faintly from a fountain in the central courtyard.

"My dear, we all have feelings, even if some of us are told we aren't supposed to. Especially bad feelings sometimes. And despite what you might think, I don't feel disappointed in you at all, quite the opposite. I understand that it can't be easy holding yourself to such high standards, though." She smiled faintly, trying to break the tension. "I don't know what caused you to feel this way, and I won't invalidate your feelings, but… there is no need to feel ashamed. Sometimes we just can't help but let it all out."

"Sarek would be displeased. And Spock." She stared down at her bloodied hand, a visceral reminder of her anger untamed.

"Well, I think my most serious husband would find understanding somehow. And as for my stoic son, I doubt he would find as much displeasure in your actions as you believe. They only want the best for you, as difficult as it can be. I know it can be demanding, trying to exceed their expectations, but... we all feel like we have failed sometimes and it's just part of learning who you are. If it makes you worry any less, we can keep all this to ourselves and we won't tell either of them. It will be our little secret."

"A secret?"

Amanda knew full well the effect of sharing in hidden knowledge with Saavik, who was by nature a secretive child.

"Don't worry, I promise to not say a word. Scouts honor." Looking playfully serious, she put up two fingers and then placed her hand over her heart. Saavik did not understand the reference for what it was, but she took the gesture to be some oath of great importance, and nodded sternly in acknowledgment.

"It will be our secret then, Lady." She bowed her head once more.

"Saavikaam, you don't need to be so formal. I'm not here to judge you or punish and you haven't done anything wrong. " Delicately grasping the child's shoulder, she used her other hand to tip up Saavik's chin, gazing directly into her eyes while smiling warmly. "I want us to be friends, if nothing more. We did not just adopt you in legal terms. You are part of the family, for better _or_ worse."

"It will be my honor to keep a secret between us then, even if it is one that I am feeling ashamed of. Thank you... Ko-mekh." She hesitated at the last word, her eyes searching and solemn.

Amanda's eyes widened_. She called me mother!_

Her heart soared; she had never thought to hear that word from a child's lips again. As much as she had hoped for it, she had never expected it despite the near instantaneous attachment she had felt for Saavik.

"Come indoors, my ko-fu." _My dear daughter!_

Amanda found it difficult not to show joy through a beaming smile. The sudden trust that Saavik had shown amazed her. "If we don't get you scrubbed soon, we won't have a secret to keep for long."

Lovingly brushing back a stray curl, Amanda then led Saavik away from the hushed garden, along its meandering paths and back indoors. Neither one of them remembered the jeweled hair pin that still lay covered in drying blood and dust behind them in the warm sandy soil.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. I-Chaya was Spock's pet sehlat when he was a child, first mentioned in TOS: _Journey to Babel_ and later seen in TAS: _Yesteryear_.  
>2. Saavik refers to Amanda as "Mother" in the novel <em>Unspoken Truth<em>.


	14. A Father's Logic

**Chapter 14: A Father's Logic**

It was a comfortably warm evening in the early part of the season of Belaar, but soon the heat of the Vulcan summer would bring an end to the relative coolness of spring. A gentle breeze caressed the ancient lands around the ShiKahr Oasis, carrying the scent of desert blossoms across the blushing sands. Newly formed kal'ta flowers glistened iridescently, bidding farewell as the last light of sunset hung in the air above the foothills before the white Eye descended out of sight, leaving The Watcher to stand as guard in solitude.

The last light of day filtered through skylights of the library where Sarek had been waiting for Amanda to return for 12.4 minutes. While reading a data pad listing his agenda for the morning, he had been thinking about Saavik, in particular her still uncertain future. Admittedly, it had not been his first decision to become one of her legal guardians.

When _Symmetry_ had landed on Thieurrull and began making its initial assessment, it was discussed that the surviving children would be sent to a star base to be rehabilitated and educated after being fed, sedated and initially treated. Spock had of course argued in front of the assembled rescue team, stating that their proposed action would be an insult to all the lost Vulcans who had been brutally held captive, who had been the victims of unconscionable violation. He believed that their party would be responsible for further dishonoring the memory and legacy of those lost katras by not embracing the children with open arms to take them home to Vulcan.

To Sarek and the others gathered, _their_ plan had seemed to be the logical approach; the children of Thieurrull should be placed in the care of professionals, so as not to incur further harm to them, the rescue party or anyone else in the immediate future. Spock had been adamant that it would only further make the children irrevocably lost as casualties if they abided by such a plan; he stated that although the survivors would be alive, locking them away as a dark secret would be denying them a chance to find any meaningful existence in the society that was their birthright. It had not been a simple task on his part for the others to agree with his evaluation.

Putting aside the datapad, Sarek leaned his form back into a spindly antique chair. It was a family heirloom belonging to Amanda from Earth, and sturdily constructed in a style she said had been popular in a place called Pennsylvania over 350 years before. The Amish creation had survived the ravages of the North American strikes during the Eugenics Wars, and since been passed through many generations of her family until eventually being loaded onto a small freighter and deposited on Vulcan forty years before. Sarek had not expressed appreciation for the random heirloom in words, but had since made it his unofficial seat when in the library. He could appreciate tradition and the importance of legacy.

Closing his eyes, Sarek worked to organize his thoughts about Saavik.

To say the least, he had been skeptical when Spock had decided to take Saavik to Dantria IV. The day they had first brought her aboard the _Symmetry_, Saavik had confronted Spock over hopes of a ration packet, knife in hand. She was barely a shadow in the wastes; her body was an unsubstantial skeleton, crusted in more mud and scars than skin. Sarek had noticed a large brand on her shoulder that had long before become infected, scarring her deeply. All of the survivors had been marked in such a fashion and it was a common Rihanh practice to sear the name of one's clan into newborn flesh. In this case, it had been an insult as these children had been the prodigy of violent experimentation only to be purposefully forgotten. Saavik, despite her weakened physical condition, was still feral and extremely dangerous. Somehow Spock had earned her basic trust, and after their brief exchange of a tricorder for a knife, they became entirely inseparable. Sarek did not see what Spock had in that savage girl, at least not until recently.

Of course he had found it unseemly and illogical that Spock would decide to take on such a responsibility as raising a child alone; for one, he had no experience with children. He had also taken a great physical risk, though Spock of course argued that he would be able to keep the situation under control. It was also not typical in Vulcan society for a girl child to be raised by an unbonded male and many would think it as most improper.

To Sarek, it seemed most unreasonable that his son would so easily sacrifice his duty to care for her, even though he was not entirely sanguine about Starfleet being an honorable pursuit in itself. Although he had reconciled with Spock years before during the voyage to the Babel Conference, Sarek was still in disagreement of his choice to run off and become a Yel-Halitra warrior.

A military career was beneath Spock's status and abilities in his view, and was entirely counter to not only the plans that Sarek had for his son, but in his thinking ran contrary to the non-violent teachings of his culture. It had deeply disturbed Sarek to think that Spock could potentially be commanded to battle at the whims of the Federation. So, when Spock had chosen to _finally_ come home after the conclusion of his tour with James Kirk, Sarek had thought that the universe had righted itself.

Since his initial return to T'Khasi, Spock had changed drastically. After nearly three years his studies at Gol had almost been complete and at first Sarek believed such an achievement to be most satisfactory. He considered that his son's pursuit was a sign of final acceptance of his culture, culminating after a lifetime wrought with personal instability and _emotional_ divisiveness. While most all Vulcans practiced the regimens of c'thia, only one or two promising acolytes were accepted to study with the Kolinahru each year. Many of those were never able to complete the rigorous mental disciplines to achieve Total Logic. It was not only an accomplishment of learning and personal commitment, but a great honor. It was an ultimate expression of adherence to ancient traditions.

But, in the end, Sarek would find Spock's decision to seek Kolinahr had once more turned everything around and tossed it on its side like a wayward top.

2.8 years before, he remembered a day that had been exceedingly hot. Carrying nothing but a small water skin and a cloak , Spock had come to take his leave of his mother. In that formal leave-taking, he was to say farewell to her for the _last time_ as a being with any vestige of possible feeling, with any residual attachments or…love. In her graceful way, his mother had expressed her love and acceptance of his decision, but when Spock had left on foot alone across the Forge on his final long pilgrimage to Gol, she had been nearly inconsolable. She told Sarek there would never again be any chance that her son would embrace his feeling human side and the loss of this shattered her heart. The distance she had already suffered in his long absence would be incomparable to the complete separation he would achieve through Kolinahr.

In time, even Sarek realized that Total Logic came at too great a cost. Worst, he knew that for all of Spock's many reasons, Sarek himself was a prime catalyst in his impetus towards shedding all attachments in exchange for a life of study in pure detached thought. After much meditation, Sarek realized that in declaring his son vre'kasht all those years ago, he had irreparably pushed him away. The final result was that he had traumatized the two beings that he regarded the most highly.

After V'Ger, Spock had changed profoundly again. In discovering such a being that possessed Total Logic, he had sought it out to learn more and in a way find kinship. What he had found was far from what he expected; in telling his mother of the event, he had stated in his own way that to live without either logic _or_ emotion was not really living at all. While Sarek still believed his son's line of reasoning to be inherently flawed, he also noted that for once Spock seemed at peace with himself. There would be some who would call Spock v'tosh ka'tur for such a belief, but Sarek would not risk losing his only son again over disagreeing philosophies. He had already lost so much, he could not bear it again.

In light of all this, Sarek still had at the time little confidence that his son would be successful in his pursuit of reeducating such a child as Saavik. Spock again was vocal in his opposition and remained resolute, certain that Saavik showed promise and would prove herself to be indeed worth every bit of his protection and personal endorsement. When his son and his young ward had departed to Dantria IV, Sarek had calculated the odds at 72.6% that the decision would end in failure; yet again, Spock had proven through his actions and beliefs to defy all logic he possessed.

Over many months at a distance, Sarek and Amanda had come to know Saavik through Spock's regular correspondence about her progress. In the beginning, there seemed to be little chance of success. Saavik was prone to unpredictable behavior and violent fits; her vocabulary was barely more than that of a toddler, a limited mix of Romulan and Vulcan ineloquently mashed together. Having been first terribly abused before cast out alone and neglected, her social skills were nonexistent. And, although it should perhaps be only judged as a mechanism for her survival, Saavik had proven herself to be an efficient killer. She initially had shown no signs of a conscious morality. While it was certain that she did possess an obvious intelligence, she appeared ultimately untamable. Sarek believed it was fundamentally wrong for her not to be in the care of healers and specialists who were better equipped for such extreme situations, _not_ alone on a distant colony world with his son.

But over the months, she did improve. It was slow at first, small advances. Spock had remained stubbornly patient. In time, her progress began to increase exponentially. She had been more adaptable than anyone could have calculated and like Spock, had defied all logic and probability. Her survival instinct allowed her to adapt instead of decay; she had risen from the wastes of Thieurrull to stand defiant and now, she was a daughter of Sarek's house.

_Since her arrival, I have seen how wrong I had been about her, about my initial decision and especially, about Spock. _

Sarek sighed heavily before opening his eyes. He was no closer to any solutions or decisions; there were so many unknowns. It was his duty to abide by certain traditions for the benefit of his clan but there were so many complications; Saavik's Romulan heritage was one to consider foremost…

It had been 15 minutes exactly when Sarek noticed neither his wife nor Saavik had reappeared; with the setting sun it was time to say their goodnights before retiring to personal meditation and then, to sleep. He knew that he himself still had much to contemplate.

Rising from his chair, Sarek decided to find the whereabouts of the two adventurous ladies in question. Walking quietly into the hallway, he stopped to listen. Total silence greeted him as he continued to walk through the familiar rooms, until he noticed the door to Amanda's elaborate garden was cracked open, ever so slightly, and the faint murmurs of lilting feminine voices could be heard beyond. He did not want to breach their privacy by entering, but he could faintly hear their conversation as it ended and two pairs of footsteps began to approach. Not wishing to be intrusive, Sarek decided to go back to the library and wait. As a parent, he had always been more at ease at a distance, allowing Amanda to take care of more _emotional_ details. In this instance, he was at a rare loss for words, caught in his own thoughts.

As he slipped back into the library unseen, he heard Amanda escort Saavik into her room with quiet whispers preceding them. Amanda was attending to her needs as a _loving_ mother would. Sarek absently picked up his datapad and lowered himself back into his chair. After a few more minutes, he heard the last of rustling sounds and a door close softly, indicating Saavik had been settled into bed. Amanda appeared at the library door looking tired but somehow accomplished.

"Saavik fell asleep in the garden and got a bit dirty. She's cleaned up now, but I put her to bed. She wished for me to bid you goodnight."

"It is understandable that she would want to retire; it has been a most eventful day for her, I assume."

Amanda made a sideways grin. "Yes Husband, it has been quite a long day for the both of us." She walked through the threshold to stand near him, resting her hand on his shoulder lovingly.

Extending two fingers, Sarek embraced his wife in the customary way between bond mates as he rose from his chair again and they left the confines of the library silently to withdraw to their own suite.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Kal'ta plants are first mentioned in the ENT novel _Surak's Soul_ by J.M. Dillard.  
>2. The white Eye is a name to describe Nevasa, Vulcan's sun. Federation star charts refer to it as 40 Eridani A.<br>3. The Watcher is known as T'Khut, a planet tidally locked in orbit with Vulcan.  
>4. Saavik's Romulan clan brand is mentioned in the novelization of <em>Star Trek III: The Search for Spock.<br>_5. Yel-Halitra translates from Vulcan as Starfleet. It literally means 'yel'= star and 'halitra'= fleet (military).  
>6. T'Khasi is the name for the planet Vulcan as known by its people.<br>7. V'tosh ka'tur translates to "Vulcans without logic" as established in the episode ENT: Fusion.


	15. Queen to King's Level One

**Chapter 15: Queen To King's Level One**

_Aboard the Enterprise, Spock's Quarters_

It was getting exceedingly late aboard ship, but as the two friends had so many times before, Kirk and Spock fell into their familiar custom of a game of three dimensional chess while continuing their discussion. In this simple fashion they had deliberated over many difficult decisions and conversations, over thousands of light years. It had become a comfortable habit for both of them, and one that they automatically slipped into when time allowed. For Kirk, it was a way of channeling nervous energy in calculated action; for Spock, it was a exercise in logic against an illogical, yet formidable, friendly foe. During their daily life of military service, they had found this exchange to be an odd comfort in a battle of wits.

As their conversation continued to progress, Kirk was certain that he was _still_ out of his depth. At first, he found it difficult to understand how Spock could be suddenly so attached and concerned about the well-being of a young child, beyond the act of doing his duty and then returning to his own life. While he knew that family was a central part of Vulcan culture, he had always assumed that Spock was _content_ being detached. He had for all intents and purposes escaped from Vulcan as a youth to join Starfleet and recently, in attempting Kolinahr, had tried to purge any and all emotional attachments. Spock was also typically a solitary person; sure, he would enrapture the crew with an occasional musical performance or play a game of Tri-D chess in the officers lounge but he wasn't one for parties or trivial social engagements. For the most part he had always been a lone cerebral pillar, guarded in his own stoic way.

When they had first met aboard the _Enterprise_, what now seemed to be a lifetime before, Kirk had been reticent about his First Officer. He had studied the mission logs of the _Enterprise_ and knew Chris Pike to be an excellent and capable captain. His Bridge crew was known for their rigid and serious attitude. Although Kirk could be serious when command dictated such attitudes and actions, he generally liked to keep a good sense of humor at hand. Spock obviously was not one who shared his views of balancing impeccable service with a more "humanistic" relationship towards the senior staff.

At first, Kirk thought that Spock was somewhat arrogant, even rude. His way of offering just the facts without any emotional consideration was unnerving at times. Even after living around humans for so many years, it was obvious that his science officer didn't always understand their emotional cultural subtleties; tact and humor weren't his apparent forte. It was also unnerving just how damn brilliant he was; if Spock said that you were wrong, it was usually 99.9999% accurate that he was right. It was one of the reasons why Spock and McCoy were always butting heads; raw intelligence had proven to be irreconcilable with raw emotion at times.

Spock of course had not been his first choice as second in command, but after serving with Christopher Pike for over a decade, he was already quite established aboard the _Enterprise_. In some ways it seemed that Spock was just as reticent about Kirk himself, and it took a long time for either of them to finally see eye to eye. Even so many years later, it was still amazing to Kirk that he had in fact found such a close friend in someone who had seemed utterly indifferent to him at first. But, even Kirk could admit to being wrong about something once in a while and in this case, he was glad Spock had proven him incorrect.

Kirk reflected on how in those days he had little experience with Vulcans, especially in close quarters. He had of course studied their history as part of his Academy curriculum, and had always been interested in the shared history of their two worlds when Starfleet had still been but a twinkle in the far reaches of imagination. He had also been proven wrong in his initial assessment of Spock being any more than a breathing computer. Over the years, they had seen too much together for him not to know that what Spock exhibited on the surface was only the top skin of a complicated onion. When you see a man live and nearly die only to get up and fight by your side the next day, you understand him differently.

He knew for certain that Spock could be a loyal friend beyond logic and reason when he had stolen the _Enterprise_ to take Chris Pike back to Talos IV, an act that transcended mere fealty to a fellow officer. At first Kirk was shocked, appalled even, that Spock would do such a seemingly _crazy_ thing; risking court-martial and execution, Spock had masterfully orchestrated Pike's return to the Talosians and broke General Order Seven. His trial and subsequent court-martial seemed like an open and shut case until even the event itself came to be understood as merely an illusion.

In the end, Kirk understood the reasons for his First Officer's sacrifice, but at the time he thought him to be a complete lunatic. It had been an instance of a trust first broken and shattered that was in turn mended somehow stronger than ever before. It had been a defining moment in Kirk's understanding of Spock as a _person_.

And, again and again over many years serving with him, Kirk came to trust that even Spock's seemingly crazy ideas were usually the work of a quiet considerate mastermind. So, in this respect, he knew it highly unlikely that his friend would now just sit and spin while someone he regarded with the utmost care was potentially threatened.

"Well Spock, what are you going to do?" Kirk eyed his rook contemptuously. He knew that he had jeopardized the safety of his queen in his last move, and Spock hadn't missed a beat despite being noticeably bothered by recent events.

"Unfortunately there is not much I can do. My position aboard the _Enterprise_ as well as within my own family's house makes it difficult for me to approach the situation without breaching protocol. I could try to ask my mother to intercede, but even she has limited power in this situation." Spock made his move on the board, one that surprised Kirk in its seeming audacity. He knew it must be a trap somehow; Spock wasn't one to make a blunder or just give his pieces away.

"Do you think she would agree with you?" He continued to eye the board, weighing his options. Spock waited patiently for him to make his move, giving no hint as to his own plans. Kirk was well aware that Spock could plan out the entire endgame in his mind from the first movement, but it didn't bother him. He had the advantage of unpredictability and even Spock wasn't always capable of second guessing him past his initial gambit.

"She has made her opinion known as to my own failed bonding. Her vocalization of certain memorable human epithets comes to mind. I doubt that she would be in agreement with Sarek in this regard, but she is also bound by family duty, as is Sarek and as am I."

"Don't take this wrong, but I would have enjoyed being a fly on the wall just to hear your mother swear." Kirk picked up his knight, moving it to the second level and taking out Spock's bishop. Smiling, he continued his thought. "Maybe things will work out differently this time. You can't be certain that the same thing will happen to Saavik that happened to you."

Eyeing the board, Spock made no outward indication that the loss Kirk had just incurred against him bothered him. After a brief pause, he moved his own piece to the 2nd level, cornering Kirk's king with his knight. "Mate in three moves."

Letting his scowl show slightly, Kirk worked to reevaluate his strategy. Sadly, it wasn't looking like he would come out the victor this time. As he continued to calculate, Spock finally responded to his friend's last inquiry.

"In regards to Saavik, there are always possibilities. Unfortunately, it is my conjecture that her Romulan ancestry will complicate the matter for her. It may hinder her as much if not more than my own mixed parentage has caused adversity in my life. She is still at a fragile state in her ongoing development and this sort of life-long commitment may only serve to stifle her chance to find her true path." Pausing a moment, he raised a brow slightly before continuing.

"Although my people profess the virtues of IDIC, I have learned through personal experience that there is such a thing as bias and bigotry, even among Vulcans."

"Perhaps you have a point there. Damn, its warm in here." Seeing an unexpected opening in the board, Kirk moved a pawn to the third level, taking a chance against Spock's blockade as he focused on the apparent 'bad bishop'.

"If I did not know you as well as I do, I would assume that such ploys to make me turn my back on you during a game would be suspect." Getting up from the board, Spock flipped down the thermostat another few degrees before reseating himself.

"Well, as much as I like to cheat the odds sometimes, strangely I get more pleasure out of losing to you honestly."

Spock made his next advance, knocking out Kirk's carefully placed second bishop on the 2nd level. "Your move, Admiral." Steepling his fingers, Spock again reclined patiently in his seat, his demeanor remaining totally impassive.

"If I didn't know you better Spock, I'd say you were enjoying watching me squirm." Kirk continued to look over the board cautiously knowing he was caught in a bind; unfortunately it was looking like a no-win scenario. Kirk detested no-win scenarios. Refusing to call for adjournment quite so soon, Kirk moved his remaining bishop knowing the outcome was futile.

Spock spoke as he considered his own move. "I will not concede to the illogic of your statement, nor will I argue it." Placing his rook at the second level, Spock arched one brow again. "Check."

Sighing heavily, Kirk slumped his shoulders and raised a hand signaling defeat. "Usually I would fight you, but I'm honestly feeling beat in more ways than just my chess game. I think it's time to say goodnight."

"It was as usual a most agreeable tournament. You are correct though, it is quite late."

"Thanks for the game," Kirk responded, picking up his pieces and putting them back in their storage container. He let the comfortable silence persist before continuing his thoughts. "I know it wasn't easy to talk about your family, but I'm glad we had a chance to. While I'm aware that my human sentiment is unnecessary, I couldn't go to bed knowing that there was something potentially wrong." He continued to stash the pieces as Spock carefully moved the chessboard back to its normal place in a recessed cabinet. It still surprised Kirk that after so many years, Spock had the same board. It showed considerable signs of wear having taken a tumble many a time in its life aboard ship.

_You can't tell me he is entirely abject to sentimentality._

Spock tucked the board away, placing it securely in its cupboard. "In some ways, I am willing to concede that your sentiment has given me pause to reflect. Thank you for your concern Jim, even though I admit to have been adverse to it initially."

As they said their final goodnights, Kirk stepped through the door and out the corridor towards his own quarters. His evening with Spock had turned into something altogether unexpected. As Kirk made his way following the subtle bend of the deck he continued to reflect on friendship and family, his understanding once more deepened through the familiar exchange of pawn for knight. To him, the concepts of friendship and family were one in the same. He still wasn't sure if he had helped or hindered Spock in their conversation, but he felt satisfied by the idea that he had at least given what comfort he could. And while he still had no idea what Spock was planning, he knew that as with everything, all would be revealed in good time.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. "Queen to king's level one" is the appropriate response to Kirk and Spock's secret password from TOS: _Whom Gods Destroy_. In this episode, Kirk also proclaims to Garth of Izar that he feels that Spock is his brother, of which Spock agrees in his own logical way.  
>2. Spock's hijacking of the <em>Enterprise<em> in disregard for General Order Seven is mentioned during the events of TOS: _The Menagerie, I & II_. It is also on record in this episode that Spock had served with Captain Christopher Pike for "11 years, 4 months and 5 days" before Kirk took command of the _Enterprise_ in 2265.


	16. In Reflection, Truth

** Chapter 16: In Reflection, Truth**

_Shikahr, Vulcan_

Amanda sat sidesaddle on an antique cedar chest that over the years had become her preferred perch at her bedroom vanity. As she had done so repetitiously before, she deftly unbraided her hair from its complicated coiffure, placing the many bobby pins in an ornately carved agate bowl on the counter. Graying strands tumbled down her slight form, the ends falling to the edge of the seat behind her. She couldn't help but smile into the eyes of her familiar reflection, wanting to savor the moment of joy she still felt from her recent connection with Saavik. Winning the child's trust was in a way a validation of her own abilities as a parent.

_She called me Mother!_

As she intoned the thought again, another happy shiver coursed through her being. She had felt so much uncertainty in the past few months, even fear that Saavik would reject her new home despite their efforts. It bothered her to think that this abused child would not find peace and happiness in her second chance at life or the solidarity of family she so deserved.

Amanda reflected that while she loved Spock without question, the sense of connection she had always desired to foster between her only son and herself had been in many ways hard won, and at times seemingly lost. She knew that in his own withdrawn way, he did care and love her deeply; of that she had no doubt. He had always been considerate of her, and she in turn typically sided with him in his defense, mostly out of fairness but sometimes purely out of emotion. They had shared many close moments together in the past, especially when he had still been a small child.

But there had always remained a distance, even before the call of the stars had imposed a greater gulf between them, even before Kolinahr had nearly stripped her cherished son of his personality and unique character.

In her youth, Amanda had an overwhelming amount of personal expectations and dreams of what being a parent would be like, including all the cultural idiosyncrasies one takes for granted. So many of the typical human avenues of familial attachment, the kind of memories seemingly all humans posses; little things like birthday parties and frivolous trips to the beach, dances and silly holiday outings, and even the trials of teenage angst and dating; none of those events happened the way she had anticipated, and some not at all. It had been much harder for her to cast aside such expectations than she would realize over the years that proceeded her marriage to Sarek. Now, many of these lost hopes seemed even silly to her after living within a culture so different from her own for the better portion of her life.

Amanda knew that the same unbending imposed structures she had argued against would be in place for Saavik as had been in place for Spock, but this time, she didn't mourn as she had before over all the lost opportunities she had craved to have with her own child. The feelings of frustration and confusion she had felt especially when raising Spock, and even in caring for Sybok, seemed less present now. She would always carry some of the hurt inside of her, the _illogical_ pain of being denied so many anticipated _human_ experiences and left unfulfilled.

But, this time, Amanda knew the only way to truly be worthy of the title _Ko-mekh_ was to accept that Saavik's unique needs came first. She would guide and be a champion for her as best as she was able to, but she wouldn't allow the pain and heartbreak of the past to color the present. In Saavik, she could see so much potential and worth. The edges were still rough, but within those dark coal eyes a diamond did show through. In the garden, she had seen such uncertainty and struggle, and yet a desire to be accepted and loved. In their embrace, Amanda had found not only acceptance from Saavik, but a different kind of acceptance in herself.

_"This moment. It is round, it hangs in empty space like a little diamond; I am eternal."_

Amanda allowed a faint mirthful gasp to escape as she recollected the line from an antiquated Earth novel, one she had been quite fond of in her teenage years. As she finished pulling apart and brushing out the last of her tresses, she looked into her own silvering eyes to a face so familiar yet so different.

_So many expectations, even silly ones about my future self. _

Soft footfalls from behind distracted Amanda away from her thoughts as Sarek made his way across the tile, stopping to stand beside her at the mirror. He gently caressed her cheek with two fingertips, lingering momentarily before continuing his steps toward the adjoining anteroom reserved for meditation. In their brief exchange, Amanda noted that his face reflected his usual impassive calm, but she could feel through the proximity of their bond that he was not entirely at peace. In contrast to the strength of her happy feelings, the faint undercurrent of Sarek's own inner conflict was carefully concealed and controlled. He had tried to not let it through, but with his touch he had betrayed the truth of his disposition.

"Sarek, please wait."

He stopped, bracing himself against the doorway before turning nonchalantly to face his wife, again with an outwardly unaffected air.

"Is there something you require, my Adun'a? I had hoped to meditate before retiring this evening." Although through his posture he tried to radiate calm, his stoic bearing was not enough to convince his wife that all was well.

"Yes, I had deduced that was the case based on your trajectory, my love." Amanda smiled slyly, yet playfully, as she slipped off the bench and gracefully stepped closer. She looked deeply into Sarek's eyes for a moment before reaching to return his gesture with her own fingertips.

Sarek let show a faint smile that he reserved only for her.

"You are quite logical in your deductions, Beloved_._"

"I have had many good years to learn, Adun." She held him in the doorway by her mere presence. "I can't help but notice that you seem somewhat pensive. What troubles you?"

"Pensive?"

Sarek did his best to look unknowing. In his answering of her query with one of his own, he hoped his wife would grow disillusioned with her question. It was a play he had used before when he did not wish to discuss his position.

"You know, long ago that trick used to work but now I am certain you are just trying to cover your true feelings."

"At present, I harbor _no_ feelings, especially not pensive ones. I will admit to being deeply in thought, but _not_ affected by the emotional hindrance you have described. I do most truthfully desire to meditate before daybreak comes."

Amanda searched her husband's eyes once more, but she could sense Sarek would not relent. She was also quite tired and although she still felt elated, much like a frantic dervish, she had been taxed by the ecstatic events of the evening and wished only to end the night on a peaceful note. Tomorrow perhaps, she would find the strength to try to understand the chaos of her husband's thoughts. For now, she would allow him to meditate as he wished.

"Luckily for you, I'm just to worn out to pursue you on this issue when I know you wish to remain silent. Goodnight, my love. I do hope you find what you seek in your contemplations." Kissing him softly, she moved aside to allow him passage into the alcove.

"There is no luck Amanda; it is only logical to not pursue what does not exist. I will join you shortly after I have had a few moments to organize my thoughts. Goodnight, my ashal-veh."

Allowing herself another sweet smile, Amanda broke his gaze and made her way to their bed as Sarek continued on to his place of meditation. As she settled beneath the single light coverlet, she tried to push away the unspoken troubles of her husband. Breathing deeply, Amanda closed her eyes allowing her own thoughts to wander as she gently drifted into sleep.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

_1. "This moment..._" is a memorable quote from Jean-Paul Sartre's _The Age of Reason. _One of the novel's themes is in regard to the existentialist perception of ultimate freedom, chiefly what it really means to be free within the strict constructs of society.  
>2. Adun'a translates as wife in Modern Golic. The shortened form adun logically means husband.<br>3. Amanda translates from Latin directly as "lovable, or worthy of love".  
>4. Ashal-veh is a Vulcan expression of endearment between bondmates, meaning darling. (VLD)<p> 


	17. A Legacy of Past Regret

**Chapter 17: A Legacy of Past Regret**

It had been nearly an hour since Sarek had crossed into the next room with the purpose of meditating, but his many tumultuous thoughts about Saavik and her future and especially his most recent personal revelations about his own son still weighed heavily on his mind. So many threads seemed to be twisting and unraveling in the disordered tapestry of current events, and he found it most disconcerting as he attempted to concentrate. The only obvious conclusion he had reached was that all these loose ends would not be so easily tied.

A single lamp lit the sparsely adorned room and a large window looked out towards the desert plain. With no moon to cast light upon it, the landscape was quite foreboding at night with only starlight breaking through the monotone darkness. In the center of the room a simple reed mat lay before Sarek's own incensed firepot. Unable to focus his thoughts clearly, he had remained kneeling, simply listening to Amanda's breathing slow as sleep took her in the comfort of their bed. She had appeared to be as peaceful as he was restive. Sarek's reputation as an unflappable and highly ordered thinker and negotiator proceeded him throughout the Federation, so it was unusual that in the present he could not separate and dissect his thoughts through logical disambiguation. While trade agreements and boundary treaties were hardly the same to him as personal affairs directly related to his own clan, his current inability to find clarity in the situation only served to kindle his agitation.

Realizing the futility of his exercises, Sarek stood from his position and bowed before the fire. While he may have been unsuccessful in his attempts to find inner harmony through logic, he would show reverence to the flame idol. Much like the one owned by his son, Sarek's ancient firepot had once been an idol of emotionality revered in an age before reform. It bore the likeness of Khosharr, an ancient and violent deity symbolizing war. Poised and battle ready, the figure stood unabashed in his nakedness in only a tattered loincloth, his right foot extended and eager to engage an unseen enemy. His dramatic angular face was framed in a long mane of flowing hair. At his left, he was flanked by a patinaed bronze shield inlaid with jadeite, the color of blood and battle. To his right, Khorsarr grasped an oversized lirpa bathed at the blade with a slight staining of deep emerald, proudly displaying the remnants of a recent addition to an honorable yet vicious victory.

Amanda had always considered the statuette to be a most grotesque objet d'art and typically avoided going near it. When Sarek had given Spock the bust of Ket-cheleb after his fifth year in recognition of his pursuits in Discipline, she had protested vehemently against it, convinced that the demonic and anachronistic effigy would only serve to give her son nightmares. In contrast, Sarek found both sculptures to be striking figures who evoked a very different time in his planet's history, and therefore believed they should remain in their home as reminders of heritage and change. And, as fear was merely an emotion to be controlled, to focus one's energies against such a visceral archetype would only serve to further Spock's abilities towards mastery. After all, the aged figurines had been passed from generation to generation, and long since the inception of their original purpose had been transformed into tools for meditation. They were kept to inspire as well as remind one of the long path their clan's ancestors had traveled to find peace through the lifelong battle of individual mastery. Therefore to Sarek, each served an entirely logical and practical purpose.

But presently, he found little direction or understanding as he gazed into the dead, pitted eyes of Khosarr who in turn reflected only turmoil and anguish. Unable to quell his uneasiness, Sarek quietly rolled up his mat before exiting out of the room. Gazing at the peaceful form of his wife, he sighed to himself, not quite ready to commit to sleep. In times such as these, he had found Amanda's method of "walking off" a problem to be most helpful, and made his decision to seek solace in the garden before attempting to retire.

In silence, he crept past the supine form of his beloved and made his way through to the corridor. Saavik had long since gone to sleep as well, but he was cautious not to make a sound as her senses were quite acute and she would invariably awake at the slightest noise. In each step he could relate to a multitude of memories, a lifetime of accumulated moments; each washed over him in succession as he passed through to the next rooms.

Reaching his destination, Sarek gently pushed open the glass door that led him to the tranquility of the manicured terrace. As his feet impacted the soft sandy hearth he felt his body relax, and the connection of his physical form to the ground gave him the sense of stability he was sorely lacking. Although he had spent much of his career away from T'Khasi in service to the Federation, he had always been deeply connected to his home in ShiKahr and usually found it to be a place of great comfort. Tonight however, even the intimate walls of D'H'riset seemed foreboding.

Making his way past the patch of Amanda's prized roses, Sarek moved unhurried to the outskirts of the enclosed courtyard. With years of practice behind him, he shifted the folds of his dark brown robes as he settled onto a black granite bench. He frequently rested there to look out towards the great vastness of The Forge and contemplate. When Spock had been a young child, he had often instructed him upon the same bench in innumerable subjects, from discipline and philosophy to music and mathematics. When Sarek would return home from the Council chambers, his son would typically be sitting upon the very same bench enraptured in his thoughts, his ka'athyra resting against his slight adolescent form, eyes closed in concentration. It was indeed a place of most satisfactory memories, but also of many arguments and failed attempts.

It was on the same low bench that Sarek remembered chastising Spock, one of many times in fact, over his inability to maintain emotional control. The other children had been ruthless in their taunting of him and in turn Spock had done what all children invariably do; as his mother would say, he had tried to "fight fire with fire." Sarek reflected that in his stern and seemingly unyielding way, he had only wished to protect his son by enforcing such strict control and holding Spock to such high expectations despite his youth. In his view, it was completely necessary and a logical response. If Spock was to be nurtured correctly in the Vulcan tradition, it was Sarek's duty to remain rigid in his stance and expectations.

He thought of the words he had said to his impetuous son in the days before his kahs-wan, how he had told him eloquently that failure was not an option. Spock in his desire to prove himself and to appeal to his father, had later run off into the desert and the nearby Llangon foothills with only I-Chaya as consort. At the time, Sarek had viewed such an illogical and childish response as proof of his offspring's lack of maturity, but now... now he considered how it was possible his own handling of the situation so long ago could have been different.

_"Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on." ("We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us.")  
><em>

Sarek examined further that he could have been a better student of Surak's teachings in this regard, but the past was the past, and there was no sense in dwelling upon it. Spock had found his own way to tolerance and understanding, and although Sarek himself was still at odds with many of his choices, he could not discount Spock's accomplishments nor the way in which he now comported himself with duty and honor despite the many indiscretions of his younger years.

But now there was Saavik to consider. This child who had been so wronged in her life; this child who now looked to him for not only guidance but understanding. Sarek admitted to himself that this new challenge was daunting without the burden of past mistakes leaning heavily on his conscience. It was his responsibility to ensure that she was given every opportunity to succeed, every advantage to live and fulfill her purpose, whatever that may be. He questioned himself on whether he could truly be responsible for such an undertaking, if he was even capable of giving her everything that she deserved. Was it possible for him to look past the accumulated years of so many regrets, to see in Saavik a third chance for himself as a parent?

Self doubt was unusual territory for Sarek, and the nagging thoughts of his perceived inabilities were counter to his usual unwavering self confidence. Still at a loss, he gathered the loose fabric of his tunic as he stood up and ambled back down the path towards the door of the garden. It was apparent that he still had much to think about but that answers to his questions would not be found this evening.

As he approached the edge of the hirat vines, his eye was distracted by a faint glint of light in the sand before him. Drawing closer to it with curiosity, he reached down to grasp the unknown object. Turning it over in his palm, the metallic trinket felt sticky and tiny embedded grains of sand fell from his hand. Under the faint starlight, he made out the shape of the familiar jeweled ornament. In handling it, he detected a faint odor of blood as he drew it closer for inspection, realizing in that moment that it had probably not been cast aside only in childish forgetfulness but had somehow been a source of great injury. Although Amanda had meant well in her attempts to civilize Saavik, it was obvious that the girl still had much to overcome.

Would it serve her needs best if Sarek maintained strict control over her as he had done previously with his sons or was another course of of action more prudent?

Closing the abandoned artifact into his fist, Sarek left the peace of the garden and continued his way into the house. Without any clear direction to the problems he faced, the only logical choice was to end his contemplations and at least find some serenity in the certainty of sleep.

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Spock's kahs-wan ordeal is explored in TAS: _Yesteryear_.  
>2. <em>Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on. <em>This phrase is one of many from _Surak's Analects._


	18. A Dark Star

**Chapter 18: A Dark Star**

_U.S.S. Enterprise, Spock's Quarters_

Alone in his cabin once more, with Kirk having said his goodnights and departing after their friendly contest, Spock continued to reflect on the evening. As the door had _whooshed_ shut behind his friend, he turned up the heat to a comfortable 115°F and slipped out of his uniform jacket, careful to not crease it as he hung it in his closet.

Returning to his desk, Spock sat with his fingers clasped, staring for a few moments into the emptiness of his com terminal. Only the darkness of his own reflection stared back, his visage baring the depths of his dilemma. Shutting his eyes, he tried to detach from the outside world and allowed his thoughts to wander and disassociate as they willed.

He concluded that he was still unsatisfied with the state of current affairs but the chess game with Kirk had been an agreeable distraction. Chess, much like his ka'athyra, had always been a suitable tool for the logical examination of his inner thoughts as well as for pressing current events. While it was an engaging exercise in strategy, he also found his ideas could easily ebb and flow; there were many instances where a trivial game had inspired some of his greatest insights. During the most recent match, he had persisted in analyzing the data at hand. Each precise move from square to square and level to level, each piece captured or surrendered, brought him closer to order with each progression.

Within the whirlwind of his thoughts, he tried to focus his energies towards finding a possible solution instead of dwelling on the invariable 'what-ifs'. He knew that in many ways there was not much immediate action that could be taken, in part because of his distance from T'Khasi as well as his familial station. And, no matter his opinion or experiences on the subject, if Sarek had already made a decision on Saavik's behalf, his suppositions would likely be of no consequence.

For all of Spock's quiet introversion and intellectualism, in contradiction he had always thrived on action. When in times of trouble and distress, he could typically find answers and resolutions where others failed to see anything but bleak entropy. His ability to think under extreme pressure, against all odds, was one of his greatest strengths. Despite the fulfillment Spock found in Starfleet, Sarek still maintained his old staid argument, albeit in silence, that his son's talents as a scientist and potential diplomat had been squandered. Spock had found quite the opposite to be true, although it had taken time, reflection and nearly the loss of everything that was familiar and precious for him to come to such a conclusion concretely in the present.

_"Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail."_

His mother would be the first to remind him that even in failure or times off loss, one should learn from the experience instead of fixating on defeat. After failing Kolinahr, he had struggled most with a residual sense of shame; he had choked on her words of wisdom, finding the simplistic truth of her message hard to digest. It had remained a difficult concept to reconcile within himself. In retrospect, he could now recognize that his many choices, losses and even failure to ascend to the ranks of the Kolinahru had been a catalyst for many opportunities he would have missed otherwise, including finding Saavik. In some ways though, the experience would remain a bittersweet pill to swallow.

In his youth Spock had _craved_ challenge, allowing his determined wanderlust to eventually propel him away from home. He clearly recollected one of his early interactions with Sybok in his Mother's garden before he had been banished. His half-brother had encouraged him to look beyond the expectations of his Elders and seek answers and meaning within himself; Spock should not compromise his own needs for fulfillment because he had been simply ordered to act differently.

If not for this random discussion at thirteen, Spock may have never considered joining Starfleet or even leaving Vulcan. So many years later, he was still confused and conflicted by the loss of his t'hy'la by blood, yet grateful for Sybok's honest and radical instruction.

He had later escaped to Earth and the Academy, and eventually into the unreachable vastness of space. It had all seemed an entirely logical course to him, although in his Father's eyes, he had acted out in disregard of all reason and against his obligations to his House. In coming home again after Kirk's five year mission and surrendering to Kolinahr, he had understood almost too late that it was just another kind of escape from adversity, more to the point, an escape from living. He had learned much later that while he may have carried the pain and grief of a multitude of harsh memories before, in Total Logic, there would remain in him only emptiness.

_Even the seeming emptiness of space was not such a void._

He reflected how aboard the _Enterprise, _now over twenty two standard years in the past_, _he had seen and experienced more in a month during his initial five year mission with Captain Pike than most planet-bound researchers had in the entirety of their careers. Every day he was presented with the prospect of pursuing endless unknowns; unseen natural phenomena, unique life forms and other unfathomable encounters. Each day was a new discovery, an undiscovered frontier. Curiosity had always been his greatest strength and sometimes weakness.

Many times while staring into the azure depths of his science station monitor on the bridge, he had experienced a kind of transcendence, completely enraptured in thought and only brought back to reality by a commanding word from the Con. Sometimes he even visualized Tel-alep hovering calmly over his shoulder. The wizened ancient figure was white haired and wrinkled. He carried in his hand a book signifying All Knowledge, which remained attached by a heavy chain to his wrist. Together, both of them would delve into the endless data stream. Much like Spock, Tel-alep remained always hungry for more, never really satisfied in his curiosity even after consuming every bit and byte.

While it may have been a flight of fantasy and in many ways counter to the teachings of Surak for Spock to indulge in such elaborate abstraction in his youthful days as an ensign, in the past he had found a kind of comfort in that ongoing private visitation. Tel-alep, the friendliest and most benign of ancient deities, was something of a patron saint in Vulcan culture. When the other deities had been rejected in the Reform, especially those of the Inner Chorus who signified the darker elements of a Vulcan's personal life and death, Tel-alep remained quietly revered. He was a symbol of one's inborn curiosity, a manifestation of relentless searching and ceaseless yearning to find truth.

Of all his unspoken desires, Spock carried with him a need to find personal meaning and truth in his own life. It had remained shackled to him, much like Tel-alep's sacred tome; across his travels this need was constant as the stars. When he had first encountered Saavik, he had recognized in her eyes a similar longing and the same innate need to conquer uncertainty.

On Thieurrull the other surviving children had stood battered, evoking nothing but a loss of self and disillusion whereas Saavik herself had possessed an irrepressible curiosity and stubborn will to match Spock's own. She had been victimized, abused, neglected and left for dead, but she refused to be oppressed. Spock not only respected her, but found inspiration in her example. It had been a turning point in his life when he met her, an opportunity to learn an unexpected lesson.

It had also been a time in his own journey when he had been left to recover alone, still wounded and vulnerable, still trying to reestablish his path after Gol and V'Ger. Detached and searching, he had found her.

It was not that Spock was unfamiliar with being solitary; alone as a child of two worlds, alone at the Academy, alone as the only Vulcan in Starfleet. Generally, he was at ease with such solitude, but he could not discount his own unvoiced desire to find closeness with someone, to have a family, even children of his own. Inwardly he knew it was perhaps not a logical reality with the commitments of duty and the Federation always keeping him distant. T'Pring had made it clear that his service to the fleet was one of many reasons she had no longer wanted to wait for him. Over time, Spock had given up thinking about finding any kind of wholeness with another person; it seemed as if it was not what the universe had planned for him. After so many losses, he no longer wanted to be burdened with any of it ever again.

In seeking Kolinahr, he had seemingly found a solution to a complex problem not easily solved. He had viewed this journey as the only logical path.

And, if not for being at Gol when he had been, he would have most likely died during the throws of his second pon farr. During that ordeal, while in the depths of fevered meditation, he had been accosted by endless psychic traumas in between the terror and agony of plak-tow.

T'Pring had come to him then, but only as a major player in his violent and irrational visions, an image of fury that rejected and emasculated him. The very walls of his room seemed to resound with her cold, arrogant voice; like the lilting bells of the systras, it maddened him and seemed to tear at his heart. He believed he was drowning in his own bloodied memories, awash in regret and anger. It was as if every molecule inside his body was boiling, as if his very katra was fighting through searing flesh to escape.

In a fit of unrestrained rage, he had broken every knuckle in his right hand as he thrust it through her ghost into the crumbling rock wall of his dark domicile. He had felt nothing of it as he screamed wildly, embittered. Time had not healed that wound and he would forever carry a new scar to commemorate it.

When he had at last gained enough control to dispel T'Pring from his mind, soon his thoughts had wandered to Leila.

Running verdant streaks throughout her tresses, it was almost as though he could feel his fingertips glide through her long blonde hair, smell the sweetness of honey on her lips. He had smiled and laughed openly with her, shown her a side of himself that no one had seen before. The hallucination charmed him, called to him. She cornered him into submission much as the real Leila had done on Omicron Ceti III. But as before she had again quickly disappeared, dematerialized out of his life.

_If there are self made purgatories, then we all have to live in them._

His last words to her reverberated through his thoughts and he felt every repressed feeling of confusion and remorse rush over him again as he imagined her dissolving into pure energy, into space.

But there would be no peace, no respite, for the most painful of all visions was yet to come in Zarabeth.

Of anyone he had met in his travels, she had truly seen him and understood him; she was an exile of her world as much as he had been of his. While they may have only known each other a short time on Sarpeidon, she could only now reside in his thoughts, adrift in time and space, herself a victim of such a terrible act of cruel abandonment.

_She was lost to the past, as much as I was shackled to it._

He clearly remembered as he wept for her, how he beat his bloodied fists and clawed in desperation against the warm stone tile, sprawled prone on his belly. For days it seemed he screamed her name in vain. The haunting memories of her had washed over him like an acid rain; his skin had crawled in every pore in remembrance of the anguish of their parting and the ensuing helplessness he had felt over the loss of her. In reverting to the animal passions of his people's past, he had forsaken all sensibility of logic during their meeting. Lost in that all too brief encounter, Spock had felt deeply for her; he had understood what s_hon-ha'lock _could mean, how the all-engulfing flames of intense passionate love could singe every fiber of his being and burn straight through to his soul.

Twisted, dark nightmares forced him to relive the moment that Beta Niobe had gone supernova; he could not help but feel his own heart had imploded that day as he stood on the Bridge after returning from the planet's past, powerless, impotent against the will of the universe. Once more he would stand alone in a crowded room.

As the vision of her faded slowly into the hewn granite wall, his emotions remained uncontrolled, and his body could only seize in utter exhaustion. He had sobbed in grief for Zarabeth, for them both, as he had never allowed himself to do before until he fitfully collapsed into a deep sleep. Hours later, the frenzy of the fever broke and he was once more irrefutably alone.

After eight days, the Kolinarhu had eventually come for him and dragged his immobile, stinking form off of the floor and out of the cavern. In silence with eyes averted they had forced him to eat broth and tended his wounds. When Spock had finally composed himself once more, long afterwards the vague shadows of such tortuous visions remained. Long after the fever they whispered to him, such cynical unforgiving muses, and it only increased his will to shed all attachments forever.

He had carried them along with so many other burdens; his career, his mother, his so very human friends. Across the great expanse of the Sas-a-Shar, all of them had been in stride with him step by step to the end of his long pilgrimage. Spock had nearly been able to say goodbye to them forever as he knelt before his master on the burning sands at Gol, so close to total surrender.

But as with so many things, such closure was not to be found.

And then, after all of this, he had stepped back into his old life again to resume as if on the surface it was 'business as usual' with Jim and the _Enterprise. _Still, he remained incomplete_, _not entirely certain what he was searching for.

For all these reasons, it had been so unexpected to discover on Thieurrull that someone could need him; for certain, in many ways Saavik needed him as much as he needed her. His tutelage of her had required more of himself than he had ever thought he could give, and through her he had found new knowledge and understanding as well as a new purpose. It was somewhat like finding not only water in a desert waste, but a bright blooming start to a new life.

Frequently he had told her since that there are always possibilities. This, as with so many prior lessons, had been one that he had to learn himself. Spock needed to remind himself with this simple axiom as much as Saavik at times.

Opening his eyes, he stared once more into the dark terminal. He knew it served no purpose to dwell over such things, and he once again worked to bring his mind back to focusing on the present.

_The past is the past. What is, is. _

There were other more important issues.

As Spock's personality type was that of a born problem solver, it was his belief that everything could be resolved if one took the time and effort to carefully deconstruct any and all information to its essential components before rebuilding it again into a logical semblance.

Every problem was a question of finding equilibrium; much like playing kal-toh, one had only to find the correct balance of t'an rods to create harmony. Saavik presented him with an ongoing open ended equation; her very being was chaotic and entailed countless unknowns not easily predicted. He knew that his reasoning for fostering her had most likely seemed unclear and illogical to his parents; Sarek had not held back in his opinion on the subject of Dantria IV, and his mother, while openly receptive, had most assuredly not felt entirely secure in the idea. But Spock could not turn his back on the unknown; Tel-alep had whispered in his ear that day on Thieurrull to seek out opportunity and continue down wherever the path of curiosity led him; it was a decision that he had never regretted.

Audibly sighing to himself and somewhat exhausted by his own rapid train of thoughts, Spock reached forward and flipped on his terminal. It was part of his nightly ritual to read the ship's BBS before retiring. It would also serve to distract him once more from the morbidity of his memories.

As he scrolled through the many postings from the crew, some trivial, some of mild import, he catalogued a few for later reading while dismissing most outright. There was an announcement about a game night in the lower decks rec room, a swim relay in the pool, a party for an ensign's promotion, an inquiry by Lt. Uhura asking to buy used dictionaries that crew members often bought on shore leave only to usually discard later... Thumbing through the indexes of personals and private rants, Spock almost missed a message that had been misfiled.

_Intriguing_.

In his haste to scroll through the many trifling memos, he had nearly overlooked a message addressed to him. Somehow, the personal message had been logged into the system incorrectly, most likely an error from the Beta shift communications officer. He mentally logged his own complaint, intent to inform the Lieutenant the next day of his error.

Surprised by the letter's origin, Spock began to read with much curiosity.

**...**

**FORWARD**: To Commander Spock, UFP; _U.S.S. Enterprise_  
><strong>STARDATE<strong>: 5001.1  
><strong>SENT FROM<strong>: Salek, VSA: ShiKahr, T'Khasi

You are invited to attend the Vulcan Science Academy for the _Annual Trans-Dimensional Physics Lecture Circuit _as a guest speaker. Your recent accomplishments in the Federation regarding research in theoretical particle physics in relation to spatial anomalies such as naked singularities and dark stars has come to our attention. It would honor our institution greatly to hear and discuss the details of such research in person. The conference will commence in two weeks' time. If it is possible for you to make arrangements to attend, we request that you respond immediately.

Salek_  
>Dean of the Department of Theoretical Physics<br>_Vulcan Science Academy, ShiKahr, T'Khasi.

**...**

The faintest hint of an upturned smile crossed Spock's countenance. It seemed despite everything, the universe had in its way provided a new avenue towards a solution. Even if there was no way to change the situation at D'H'riset, he could at least find out in person the exact details. There was still opportunity for action.

_Fascinating. There **are **always possibilities._

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

1. Tel-alep and many other ancient deities of the Chorus are referenced in _The Way of Kolinahr_.  
>2. <em>"Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time we fail."<em> is a quote by Confucius.  
>3. The discussion between Spock and Sybok is documented in the novelization of <em>Star Trek V: The Final Frontier<em>.  
>4. The Inner Chorus, or Ka-ta-pak, is a belief from Vulcan's ancient times wherein exists a number of gods and goddesses with dual aspects amongst them that are manifestations of an individual's emotions. In Post-Reform Surakian philosophy, it is advised that one should ignore this pantheon entirely in favor of logic and reason.<br>5. Leila Kalomi, a botanist hopelessly in love with Spock who is unable to return her affections the same way, is referenced in the episode TOS: _This Side of Paradise_. The novel _Inception_ by S.D. Perry and Britta Dennison chronicles their earliest interactions on Earth in 2261.  
>6. Zarabeth was found by Spock and McCoy in the planet Sarpeidon's past in TOS<em>: All Our Yesterdays<em>. Unfortunately, the planet's star Beta Niobe went supernova in 2269 (a year before the end of Kirk's five year mission), destroying all remnants of her in the past or present.  
>7. Kal-toh can be considered the Vulcan equivalent of chess, but many Vulcans will point out that human chess is more akin to tiddly-winks in comparison. It is a game requiring patience and logic as well as many years of practice to master. A t'an is an individual playing piece, and several are used to construct a completed kal-toh structure.<br>8. _BBS_ is shorthand for _Bulletin Board System_. Starships typically have an open forum in place for crew discussions; everything from buying and selling, to media exchange, onboard announcements, personal messages and even news from around the Federation is listed.  
>9. The stardate of the communique is a subtle nod to the novel <em>The Entropy Effect <em>by Vonda McIntyre, in which Spock's research of naked singularities (black holes) and G-type stars is part of the main plot. The novel takes place during 2270, the last year of the original five year mission with Kirk.


End file.
